


King Under The Mountain

by Number_Twelve



Series: The Hobbit Oneshots and Others [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (but they are mild), Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Gen, King Thorin, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Bilbo, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Number_Twelve/pseuds/Number_Twelve
Summary: Bilbo Baggins returned to the Shire like planned.He had grown used to living among his friends, but he could adjust back into his comfortable lifestyle back at Bag End.... right?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: The Hobbit Oneshots and Others [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067120
Comments: 46
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> YELLO!  
> This is my first multi-chapter The Hobbit project! YAY!  
> I was actually super excited to begin writing this because all of a sudden I have my muse back and ideas and inspiration are pouring out my ears--  
> It is quite interesting, really, how a musing can push you forward to creating a whole story plot XD  
> I can't promise that my posts will come in at a steady pace, but expect a minimun of one chapter to be posted a week.  
> Wish me luck, and that my muse doesn't decide to bail on this!
> 
> (I literally had to rewrite this twice because the first draft got deleted. Way to go--)
> 
> Disclaimer: They are taking the hobbits to Isenga-- Oh, wait, nope, they are taking them over to my house, ha ha--  
> Or not.  
> *SIGH*
> 
> Edit: If you happened to come across 10 different spelling mistakes (SIGH), no worries. I just corrected it all (perks of copy-paste onto Google Docks, ha ha--)

Bilbo had not eaten a single thing in a full day and night, nor had he slept when he got the chance to do so.

Understandable… but worrying.

“Master Baggins, you should eat something.” Balin said in his gentle tone, patting the hobbit’s bent back.

“I’m not hungry.” Bilbo muttered. His stomach grumbled, betraying his hunger. Balin raised his eyebrows, both with a bit of exasperation and amusement.

“Come now, laddie,” he said, pulling up a chair and settling down next to the hobbit with a small groan as his injured knee bent. “You will have to eat something sooner or later, you know? And the same goes for sleep; you truly look exhausted.”

“That can wait.” Bilbo said, stifling a yawn. Balin sighed, bending his back and letting his hands rest between his knees. Hobbits could be nearly as stubborn as dwarrows. This included starving themselves for the sake of a friend waking up to not have to find himself alone.

“Well, he won’t be happy if he wakes up to find you half-starved to death.” Balin said after some thought, using the unconscious dwarf before them as an excuse. Bilbo wriggled his nose at the dwarrow’s words.

Ah ha.

“Fine. I’ll eat something.”

“Good! Bombur made a stew a little while back; he is serving it right now. I’ll stay and watch Thorin until you get back.” Balin offered, giving the hobbit a pat on the back as the other got to his feet.

“Thank you."

“No problem. Now, off you go, laddie!”

Bilbo reluctantly got up from his chair. For a moment, his vision swooned and his eyes blurred. He thankfully made it to the tent’s entrance without toppling over, moving aside the flap so he could walk outside. The camp was bussy; both men and dwarrows walked past him along the tents, carrying weapons, supplies and other things as such. The battle had temporarily united them in solidarity, the dwarrows and the men interacting with each other and not throwing wary glances at one another like it would have been. The elves had left hours before, the same applying to the eagles. That had been the only time in which Bilbo had actually set foot outside the tent before then; to watch the eagles fly away along with the rest of the survivors of the battle in silence.

“Bilbo!”

The hobbit turned toward the source of his name just as another person barreled against him, squeezing the air out of him in a hug. Kili laughed in his ear and Bilbo hugged the dwarrow back, relief flooding into him to see the dwarf alive and breathing.  
Up until then, he had not known if he had made it, having been separated during the fight.  
Kili let go and Bilbo sucked in air.

"Sorry," Kili said with a grin, "I'm just glad to see you made it out alive."

"Same here," Bilbo said, smiling. He glanced behind Kili. If one brother was there, so was the other. But Fili didn't appear to throw himself at the hobbit in a hug.

"And Fili?" he asked. Kili's smile vanished and Bilbo immediately feared the worse until-- "He's unconscious right now. He suffered some mortal injuries, but some elven healers along with Gandalf were able to save his life."

"Thank my furry feet!" Bilbo said. He paused. "Wait. Is Gandalf still here?"

"You sound disappointed," Gandalf's voice said from behind him, as if he had just summoned the wizard. Bilbo turned around to find the Wizard smiling down at him with amusement.

"Not at all!" he cried out. He had assumed that the wizard had left, since he _did_ tend to disappear at the worst times and come back on the nick of time.  
Bilbo's thoughts were interrupted by Gandalf ruffling his hair affectionately (it made him feel like a fauntling once more) before excusing himself; he had matters to attend to and words to exchange with both Dain and Bard.

"You better get some food in you." he added, giving Bilbo a knowing look before leaving him with Kili.

"Come on." Kili said, looping an arm around the hobbit's shoulders and grinning wider. "Bombur just finished making a stew. Everyone else is anxious to see you alive."

oOo

Bilbo was ecstatic to find that all the other dwarrows in the Company were alive. They all got up and hugged him as soon as he appeared with Kili, grinning, cheering for the burglar and praising him for his hard work well done. They then sat back down to eat and acted as if the war had never happened, choosing to push it aside and give their minds a little peace among all the chaos. Bilbo ate and didn't say much, preferring to listen to the dwarrows' conversations, offering a comment every now and then.  
He was glad that they had all made it out of the mess alive.

"I'll leave now," he announced after having eaten his last spoonful of stew, getting to his feet and leaving the bowl by the other used ones.

"Don't starve yourself, eh? You need to keep up your strength. And get a rest as well," Oin called.

"I will try to," Bilbo replied, turning to leave.

His walk back to the tent was slower than the walk away from it. He wanted to get there soon, but he forced himself to slow down his pace to take some time and breathe in the fresh air. He knew he wouldn't leave the tent unless it was absolutely necessary or until Thorin regained consciousness, which meant he had to make the best of it. He reached the entrance, inhaled the fresh, morning air one last time and then pulled aside the tent flap to enter the tent.  
He froze at the entrance.

"…Bilbo?" Thorin said in a scratchy voice, sitting up straighter against his pillows. He held a cup of something in his hands, but it slipped from his grasp and fell. Balin was quick and caught it before it fell to the floor, but the liquid splashed onto the carpeted floor. The white-bearded dwarrow stood up, putting the cup on a side table besides a jug of water.

"He woke up while you were out," he explained to Bilbo, walking to the entrance with a slight limp. "I will leave the two of you to talk."  
And then he left Bilbo alone with Thorin.

Bilbo wordlessly walked over to the chair Balin had just been occupying, sitting down and resting his hands on his lap, his overgrown nails digging into his skin to stop them from trembling.

"You look terrible." Thorin said after an uncomfortable silence. Bilbo managed a small smile.

"I imagine." he said.

"Balin told me you sat by my bedside for a day and a night. Without eating. Or sleeping." Thorin sighed. "As much as I wish it weren't true, that sounds like the kind of thing you would do." 

"I regret nothing." Bilbo said, making the King chuckle. The action made him wince, his hand going up to his bandaged side. Bilbo leaned forward, hands stretching out to readjust the pillows or something, but Thorin waved him away.

"Can you tell me about what happened? Up in Ravenhill?" 

So Bilbo told him how he had gotten knocked out during a fight, having woken up to find everything was calmer around him. He had found Thorin lying face up on the ice, terrifyingly close to death's door as blood leaked from his wound. Gandalf had arrived moments after Thorin had whispered an apology upon seeing Bilbo was with him. The wizard had been able to temporarily slow down the blood flow to keep him alive, calling an eagle to take them to Dale, where camps were being set outside the small city. Bilbo decided not to mention how he had fought tooth and nail when they had separated him from Thorin, only stopping when Gandalf reassured him that Thorin would be okay and that he would let Bilbo see the dwarrow if he let himself be checked by the elven healers.

"Gandalf saved your life," Bilbo concluded, remembering how hard the wizard, Oin and the elven healers had worked to save the King as his life slowly slipped between their fingers like sand.

"Not only Gandalf. So did you, along with the rest of the Company." Thorin said.

"I…" Bilbo fell into a confused silence.

"You made me see sense." Thorin continued. "The only reason that I was able to drag myself away from that damned gold was because I remembered about what you and the rest of the Company had said. Bilbo, I… I'm really sorry. I'm truly sorry. For what I did to you, what I made you go through. I would punch myself if I had enough strength to do so."

"I already forgave you up on Ravenhill," Bilbo said quickly, scandalized at the last sentence.  
Bilbo would never admit it-- not even to himself because he couldn't believe it-- but there was a small part in him that still feared the king after having nearly been killed by him. He momentarily recalled the stone pressing against his back painfully, his heart beating madly in his chest, the shouting of the othe dwarrows in his ears as they tried to stop Thorin, the neck of his shirt caught in the dwarrow's fist, his green eyes looking up at his face, pleading as a terrified whimper left his mouth--  
Bilbo roughly pushed the memory away.  
_Stop that! This is not the same Thorin!_

"So." the dwarrow said, leaning further back into his pillows and looking up at the ceiling. "What comes next?"

Bilbo looked down at his own, bare feet, flexing and curling his toes as he thought. "I'm not sure. I guess I will return to the Shire."

A silence. 

"I feared you would say that." Bilbo glanced up. Thorin still looked up at the ceiling, but his eyes were shut. "I hoped you would choose to stay."

"I... I can't. I'm not a dwarf."

"But think about it."

"Thorin. I can't." Bilbo looked back up at the dwarrow. Thorin was already looking at him, sadness in his blue eyes. Bilbo pressed on. It was unavoidable. It was going to happen sooner or later. "I'm a hobbit. I belong in my smial. And you are a king. And like I am a hobbit that belongs in his smial you are a king who belongs in his mountain.  
"I stayed here long enough to be able to say goodbye and see you awake before I felt. Gandalf is in a hurry; I must leave soon if I want to have a safe journey back home."

Thorin smiled sadly. "I understand." A pause. "Just remember that there will always be a place for you in Erebor should you ever want or need it."

"Thank you. I need to go now so I can pack and get ready for the coming journey." the hobbit stood up, turning to shamefully hide the fact that his eyes were watering.

"Bilbo?" Thorin said. Bilbo stopped halfway to the door, turning. "It's been a pleasure to have known you."

"The same goes to you, Thorin."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> (because the notes section doesn't work)
> 
>   
> Ok, yup, Hamabi's gone ahead and decided to post another chapter because she couldn't help it *clapping* well done you. Patience: 100%
> 
> Warnings: (don't kill me pls) _one_ suicidal thought and angst coming from a certain hobbit.  
> (*sighs* this may turn out a lot darker than I expected it would be)
> 
> Edit: If you came across _another_ bunch of spelling mistakes, they have just been corrected 👌👌👌 (surprisingly, there were only one or two)

"Are you truly sure you wish to return to The Shire?" Gandalf asked from atop his horse as Bilbo climbed onto his pony, using a stone at its side as a stepping stone.

Bilbo gave him a frown and a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"You are not the Bilbo Baggins who left Bag End." Gandalf replied, tilting his head down. "This journey has changed you. Do you think you will cope with it? With living a comfortable life so different from this one?"

"I understand what you mean," Bilbo managed to climb onto the saddle, finding the right position and patting the animal's neck, "but I still want to get back home."

Gandalf gave the hobbit a curious look before nodding and saying "very well" in a tone that sounded to Bildo as if the wizard were unconvinced. And to tell the truth, he couldn't blame him.  
He himself had had his doubts about returning to The Shire. He wasn't the same careless and clueless hobbit he had been before stepping over the borders of The Shire.  
But he had adjusted to the journey, and he would adjust once more.

"Travel safely!" Bard called as Gandalf turned his horse around with a wave. The man had come to see them off along with his children. All the dwarrows in the Company were there too, except Kili, who still hadn't woken up. Bilbo lingered behind for a few moments, not knowing what to tell his friends. They looked at him with sadness in their eyes. Thorin stood at the front, supported by Kili and Dwalin. 

Bilbo sighed. "If you ever happen to be passing by The Shire, you are welcome to stop by Bag End." he said. "Tea is at four."

Thorin gave him a small smile. "We won't forget."

Bilbo smiled and turned the pony around to follow the wizard. "Ah!" he said, pausing and looking back. "And don't bother knocking."

The dwarrows burst out laughing and he couldn't help joining in either.

oOo

The journey back to The Shire was long but relatively safe since Bilbo had Gandalf by his side during all that time. The further they got from Erebor, the further the hobbit felt from... a homely feeling that had stayed behind with the dwarrows.  
He couldn't understand why.  
He just guessed it would be restored by the time he got back to Bag End.

oOo

"Well, this is where we part." Gandalf said. Bilbo stopped walking and turned around with a frown.

"You're not coming back with me?"

"No, Bilbo. I must leave you here."

"Wait. I... I need to tell you something." 

Bilbo had thought about it all journey long. What would he do about the ring? He remembered what he had done in Mirkwood, when they had gotten caught by the spiders, and the viciousness with which he had slayed the giant insect in.  
Just to get his hands on the little band of gold he carried around in his pocket.  
It's pull was strong. He didn't want to give it up, but he had a feeling telling him that if he didn't, something bad was going to happen to him.  
It took him a great amount of strength to take the ring out of his pocket, walk over to Gandalf and hold it out in a trembling palm, the gold feeling heavy in his hand. The wizard was quick in taking it-- without making contact with the metal by using the fabric of his robes--, putting it inside a small, leather bag within his satchell. Bilbo exhaled a long breath, feeling as if a great weigh had just been lifted shoulder but as if a part of himself had just been removed from him.

"You did the right thing." Gandalf said, patting his shoulder. Bilbo knew the words were true.

oOo

"Who is this... Thorin Oakenshield?"

"He is my friend."

oOo

Bilbo had made a mistake.  
He had made a huge mistake.  
He wasn't adjusting.  
It was too quiet.  
Bag End was far too big. Far too silent, too empty.  
Bag End no longer felt like home.

Bilbo stared at the butterknife he had been using to spread butter upon his morning toast.  
_How easily,_ he thought, _would this blade pierce my skin?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*throws new chapter at you all* You are welcome--)  
> Before we start, I would just thank **Trashysara** and **Edie** for their wonderful comments; things like these are what encourage my muse to stay!  
> Thank you guys very much, as well to everyone else who left kudos down in the Kudos’ section (10 already and overnight!).  
> I’m happy that this is going well!  
> Thank you all for the support!  
> Like always, I encourage feedback and suggestions so I can hear from the readers and make the story better for you all!  
> (Also, do warn me about the spelling mistakes; I usually re-read the text to check for them but I sometimes miss them, like in the first two chapters).  
> Also, I found that “dwarrows” is actually the plural of “dwarf”, so that means that I can just say “the silly dwarf” instead of “the silly dwarrow”.  
> Another thing to keep in mind are the accents. Some of the characters in this story have a strong accent.  
> Problem?  
> I suck at writing accents, but I will do what I can.  
> So if you wonder “why is _____ missing their accent?” just remember what I said up here, lol--  
> Warnings: _mild_ suicidal thoughts (sorry, Bilbo T^T) and an oncoming conflict--

A year or so passed. Longer than a year, actually.

But to Bilbo, it felt like a decade of loneliness and pain.   
Seasons had passed, time had passed.   
The nightmares, the thoughts and the depression, however, had not.   
So did his mind’s stubbornness at calling Bad End “home”, because, try as he did, it just wasn’t.    
  


oOo

Midsummer. The green hills of The Shire were covered in greenery and countless amounts of flowers. Hobbiton-across-the-water was lively as ever, like it always was during the Summer months. 

Bilbo had found he hadn’t felt like setting foot any further from Bag End’s gate and had spent the entire afternoon sitting on his front door, smoking Old Toby and watching hobbits walk up and down past Bag End.   
He didn’t miss the fact that none were greeting him and that whenever they  _ did _ look at him, they would just hurry by.    
After all, a hobbit who liked adventures in Hobbiton had just as well committed social suacide.    
This hobbit, however, didn’t seem to mind the looks he was given whenever he walked past others. He had other things in mind and his thoughts and memories to keep him company.   
  
He wasn’t feeling too bad, either. The breeze brought back memories (memories that kept him away from calling Bag End “home”, that is). He let himself remember those days to give himself something to cling on. Focus on the old faces he hadn’t forgotten, shutting his eyes to remember the best of those days.   
How he wished he could turn back in time.   
  
“Bilbo Baggins?” his eyes snapped open to find a bearded, little man leaning on the gate. He instantly grew hopeful, searching the face for any recognition. He was a dwarf, but not one he could remember. That made him a bit disappointed. But a dwarf?    
He was getting interested.   
  
“Yes, that’s me.” he said, leaning forward and standing up. “Do I know you?”    
  
“Not yet, Master Baggins. Fran, at your service.” the dwarf swept into a bow. He straightened up, passing a hand down his black beard. “But I know  _ you _ . Not a dwarf in Erebor hasn’t heard about the brave hobbit that fought in the battle for the mountain.”   
  
“Oh…?”    
  
“Anyways. I have a message for you.” the dwarf-- Fran-- dug into a satchel slung across his broad, armor-covered chest, digging out a piece of rolled parchment, holding it out for the hobbit to take. Bilbo walked forward, taking it in trembling hands.   
  
“You came from Erebor?”    
  
“Yes. Now, open the message. It took a lot of willpower not to open it along the way. Go on.”   


Bilbo unrolled the paper and Fran leaned in to get a better look:   
  


_ Dear Mister Baggins;  
_ _ I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. This is Bofur, and I have urgent news to share with you. _ _  
_ _  
The king has not been himself these last months. Up until well, he was doing well in coping with the dragon sickness (the throne room was moved away from the treasury and measures were taken to keep him from going mad) but something has gone awry. It is as if Thorin is losing himself, bit by bit.  
_ _ He didn’t go through many changes at first; it was subtle and no one noticed. But we noticed a few days ago. We are just as clueless as he is. He said that it might be the secondary effects or something, but I can tell something is wrong with him. _ _  
_ _ The arkenstone was taken away by Gandalf for safe keeping, but the curse is still here, lingering on the gold. We are all clueless about what we should do.   
_ _  
On the behalf of the Company, I ask that you consider coming to Erebor. We all believe that you will be able to change him.   
_ _ Don’t ask. We just do. _ _  
_ _  
Fran-- the messenger-- will await your answer and send a raven to bring back news about your decision. _ _  
_ _ We hope that you will agree, but we understand it if you don’t (obviously). _ _  
_ _ The choice is yours to make. _ _  
_ _  
Kind regards,  
_ _  
_ _ Bofur _

Bilbo looked up at Fran with a frown creasing his face. “How long do I have to think about this?”    
  
“‘Till the end of the day.” the dwarf replied. “If you agree, I will be the one to take you to Erebor and responsible for your safety.”   


“I see. Um… you can come inside. I suppose you are tired from your journey, so I’ll get you something to eat. I need to think about this.”   


“I’m not tired, but I would appreciate something to eat. Thank you, Master Baggins.”    
  
“Bilbo is fine…”    
  
“As you wish.” 

  
Bilbo served the dwarf and then went to his bedroom to meditate the idea.   
He wanted to go, that was for sure. But there was Bag End to worry about first. It didn’t feel like home for him, but it had for his parents.   
He thought for a moment and then came up with an idea.   
  
“I’ll be coming with you.” Bilbo announced, entering the dining room.   
  
“Excellent! We leave tomorrow, at dawn.” the dwarf replied.    
  
“I’m just going to go to my cousin’s house to arrange Bag End’s fate.” Bilbo said, getting the keys.

  
Fran frowned. “What do you mean?”    
  
“Well, I need someone to take care of Bag End and keep it if I don’t come back.” Bilbo said, opening the door. “I will be back soon. The pantry is to your left if you need anything else.”    
Bilbo was smiling as he went outside.    
Oh, he doubted he would be coming back.

oOo

Drogo was more than willing to take Bag End. Being Bilbo’s favorite cousin and father to his favorite nephew, Bilbo thought it felt right. After all, why would he give it to Lobelia? Drogo promised he would take good care of the smial during Bilbo’s absence.    
  
Bilbo returned to the smial and immediately began to pack a bag with what he would need for the journey and his stay at Erebor while Fran concerned himself with sending a raven back to Erebor to deliver the news of Bilbo coming to Erebor. The bird watched Bilbo walk to and from rooms, laden with objects as he prepared Bag End for his absence. Fran wrote a quick message and tied it to the bird’s leg, making sure the string was strong so that it wouldn’t fall off. He then took the bird to the window, opened it and let the bird leap out into the air, watching as it flew away at an unbelievable speed.   


That was a reason why the birds were good messengers, along with taking their missions seriously and carefully.   
  
“We leave tomorrow, right?” Bilbo asked, poking his head out of a room.   
  
“Yes, at dawn. I’m going to arrange our transport. I should be back in an hour or two.” Fran replied, opening the door.   
  
“Alright. I will have dinner prepared. Are we expecting anyone else?” 

“Yes, my cousin, Pan. He will arrive later, though. I will see you later.” 

  
  


oOo

  
  


“Master Bilbo, this is Pan. He is my cousin and he will be accompanying us on our journey to Erebor.” Fran said, gesturing to the serious-looking dwarf behind him.   
  
“Pan, at yer service.” The other dwarf said, bowing.   
  
“Uh, Bilbo Baggins, at yours.” Bilbo said, imitating the gesture. “I just finished preparing dinner. Would you--?”    
  
“Good, I’m starvin'.” Pan said, entering the smial and walking to the dining room. Bilbo hopped out of the way, a smile curling on his lips.   
That brought back memories.

oOo

Bofur had never felt so nervous. It was dark outside, the moon shining in the clouded sky. His fingers drummed on the stone of the outpost he and Dwalin waited at, the wind chilling his skin even if he was covered in  _ winter _ clothes.   
  
“Do ye think he agreed?” he asked the taller, sturdier dwarf.   
  
“I don’t know. But I hope he did.”    
  
“Yeah, so do--” 

  
A loud caw interrupted him as a raven landed not far from them on the stone. Both dwarrows jumped at the sound but quickly moved to the bird.   
Bofur detached the paper from its leg and unrolled the parchment, moving towards a torch to read the message. He sighed with relief and grinned at Dwalin.   
  


“Bilbo agreed!”   
  
“Quick! We need to send a reply--” Dwalin said, drawing out a pencil and handing it to Bofur. The dwarf took it and wrote that they would expect the hobbit and that they sent regular messages (one a day) to let them know of their process. The raven took off, being replaced by another. Bofur tied the message to its leg.   
  
“To The Shire. Be as quick as ye can. The hill with the green door on a side; that’s Bag End and that’s where ye need to deliver the message.” Bofur explained. The crow nodded in understanding, taking off. They were unable to watch it go, its black feathers blending into the darkness of the night.   


“Should we tell Thorin that Bilbo is going to come now or should we wait until tomorrow?” Dwalin asked after a silence.

“He’s probably asleep at this hour. We will let him know tomorrow along with the others. They are all going to be ecstatic.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> (the notes section has gone faulty again)
> 
> * _Concerning Hobbits_ begins to play* I swear to God that my hands just can't stop moving across the keyboard--  
> Good morning/afternoon/evening/night to all of you!  
> I know I said that chapters wouldn't be so regular and that the minimun would be one a week, but right niw my muse just went CrAZy and the feeling has spread from my head and down to my hands.  
> Quite crazy, really--  
> Cheers for 15 kudos as well! Let's see how this goes, eh?
> 
> Chapter warnings: *coughs* mentions of a hobbit's depressing thoughts-- *gets slapped in the back of the head by Bilbo* sTiCK tO THe sCRipT-- as well as _somebody's_ excellent (and lifesaving) meddling.
> 
> (Warning to the characters: *in sweet voice* if you're not careful, your captain might _accidentally_ create an endless black pit you will fall into ^^)
> 
> Edit: Just finished checking any spelling mistakes 👌

Bilbo walked into the dining room dressed in a shirt and shorts. He had woken up from a wonderful dream in which he would be going to Erebor. He paused at the door, finding the two dwarrows that had been in his dream at the table, heads bent over a map. He blinked, a smile spreading on his face as he brightened up.  
It hadn't been a dream after all!

"Good morning," he greeted, moving from his spot by the entrance. The two dwarrows looked up from the map. 

Fran grinned at him, "I thought we were going to have to wake you, Master Baggins." the dwarf said. Bilbo smiled.

"On a normal day, you might have had to do so." he said, walking to the stove. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we finish having breakfast." Fran replied.

Bilbo set to preparing them a pleasant breakfast, listening to the dwarrows discuss their traveling plans in the back while humming to himself. He was in a good mood. He wouldn't wake up at Bag End the following day feeling empty and hollow, mind plagued with his dark, depressing thoughts.  
Things were going to change. He was sure of it.  
His thoughts were disrupted by a loud rapping on the door. He looked at the dwarrows, frowning. They looked just as clueless as he did.

"I thought you said you were the only dwarrows…?"

"Yes. Maybe they sent more? But I doubt it. Maybe it's one of your neighbors." Fran suggested. That would make sense.  
_Must be Lobelia, then, to come sniff around,_ Bilbo thought with a sigh.  
The rapping came again, louder and impatient.

"Coming, coming!" Bilbo said in a mildly irritated tone. He jogged to the door, twisting the knob and ready to tell Lobelia to leave him in peace. His mouth could have touched the floor right then.

"I hope to find you well; you sounded quite indignant." Gandalf said in an amused tone, smiling down at the hobbit with twinkling eyes. Bilbo lunged forward, hugging what he could of the wizard just to check that he was true and solid.  
He was quite pleased to find that he was.  
That surprised the wizard but only for a second; the man laughed and patted Bilbo's head.  
It felt good to see an old face once more, especially an old friend's.

oOo

"I am glad I managed to catch you before you left," Gandalf said. They all sat at Bilbo's table, Gandalf seated on a large, wooden box that Bilbo kept his blankets in and had dragged over to the table. Gandalf had taken out his pipe, politely refusing the food Bilbo offered saying that he had already eaten at Bree.

"If I hadn't, you would have had to travel far longer." the wizard continued.

"And why is that?" Pan asked, fiddling with a battle axe he refused to part with.

"Because the journey will take us no more than a couple of weeks. It could have been shorter, but alas, the rains are coming along with June and it will make the path hardier. However, I was able to talk to the eagles. They shall pick us up at Rivendell and fly us to Erebor. It will take two days, but we will not have to cross the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood."

"You're coming with us?" Bilbo asked hopefully. Gandalf meant safety; if Gandalf went with them, they would be much safer. At least, that's what the hobbit thought. Maybe the dwarows had different ideas.

"Yes." Gandalf said with a nod. He puffed on his pipe before continuing. "I was sent a message from Erebor. They need me to cast a guarding spell over the gold, and my presence is needed at the mountain."

"And how were you able to get the eagles to agree taking us?" Fran asked with interest.

"I crossed them on my way here. I tried to make a deal with them, but they chose to help us out of kindness as well as to return a favor, from last year." The wizard explained.

"That's good." Bilbo said. Only Yavanna knew what Gandalf had been up to during the last year. He also felt relieved; not crossing through the Misty Mountains meant avoiding the goblins and avoiding Mirkwood saved them from having to face the curse _and_ the spiders.

"Indeed," Gandalf said, clearly having similar thoughts.

"We will stop at Rivendell?" Pan asked, not sounding thrilled at all. "With the elves?"

"Yes. Lord Elrond has agreed to take us in for a day or two and offer his hospitality for as long as we may need it while we wait for the eagles to arrive." Gandalf explained.

How the wizard was capable of planning all these things, Bilbo didn't know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, guys!  
> I'm SUPER thrilled! 23 kudos and 3 bookmarks! Cheers to you all! Let's see if we can get up to 30 XD  
> Ok, to start off this chapter--
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentioned/implied child abuse 
> 
> Enjoy today's chapter! (I don't know if I'll do a double post; we will see, tee hee hee--)
> 
> (second time I post this chapter; had to go though a few edits)

They left Bag End not long after they finished clearing up the table and packing what they could of the pantry into their bags for the journey ahead with what they already had inside them. Fran said that they would walk to Bree first to get their ponies as Bilbo strapped Sting to his waist and pulled on a gray coat over his ice blue vest.   
  
They left the smial after that. Bilbo locked Bag End’s front door, hiding the key in a little plant pot where he had told Drogo he would and putting soil over it, in case Lobelia came to bother the house. He turned and saw hobbit faces looking at him through the windows, probably roused from sleep by the sudden laughter that had erupted from one of the dwarrows. Bilbo knew that this was social suicide-- at least, with the other hobbits. He waved heartily to them. Some disappeared behind their curtains, and a few others returned the wave.   
  
Then they were off, Gandalf taking the lead out of Hobbiton. 

  
  


oOo

  
  


Getting to Bree was easy, even if the walk there took a couple of hours or so at the pace they were going in. No ponies meant that they had more trouble carrying their luggage; the dwarrows had no trouble, each with two bags, one slung over each shoulder. Gandalf wasn’t carrying anything other than his staff. The hobbit just had enough strength to carry his own pack, which was already considerably heavy.    
They walked by The Shire’s farmlands, wheat crops waving in the breeze and glinting in the sunlight like gold, curious cows gazing at them peacefully as they walked past. The town itself came into sight, the track becoming muddier. Fran and Pan then took the lead, walking into the streets. Bilbo, having already walked among tall folk, didn’t feel too intimidated by the tall people all around him. He did nearly get his foot trodden on by a passing farm horse, the hobbit hoping out of the way as the animal’s hoof stamped down on where his foot had been. The dwarrows led them to the very edge of the town. Bilbo heard the neighing of equines before he saw them. An old hobbit looked up from a pile of hay he was working at, walking over to them.    
  


“How can I help y'all?” the hobbit grunted, wiping his hands on his dirty trousers.    
  
“We came here for the ponies I bought a day ago.” Pan replied. The old hobbit hummed thoughtfully, frowning.   
  
“Ah, yes.” he said, recognition seeping into his old, black eyes. The hobbit turned around and walked to the stables. “‘Tis way.”    
  
They were led to a small paddock in the stables, bordered by a large, square fence on which a ginger-haired fauntling sat, stroking a pony’s head.   
  
“Kasieh, quit lazing around and bring those animals out!” the hobbit barked, nearly causing the younger hobbit to fall right off. She acted quickly, hopping off the fence and opening the gate to let the docile ponies out. There were four in all, all chestnut colored and sturdy-looking. Three would be for riding, the fourth for any additional luggage.   
The old hobbit bartered with Gandalf for a good prize in exchange for an equally good horse, while the fauntling busied herself by helping the dwarrows and Bilbo load the ponies, choose the saddles and offer small sacks of seeds they accepted for each pony in case they ran out of food. She was mainly quiet. Bilbo didn’t miss the quiet depression in the fauntling’s pale eyes. It looked very much like his own when it had been there. Nor did he miss the bruises on her skinny arms and legs--    
  
“Well, the horse needs to be strong enough to make it to the western valley, next to the Misty Mountains. I will not pay a high prize for a horse that won’t be able to handle the journey there.” Gandalf said.   
  
Bilbo suddenly caught the fauntling’s eye. She fearfully glanced at the old hobbit and then got closer to Bilbo.    
  
“Please,” she whispered in a brittle tone, “ _ Please _ take me with you. I will do whatever you want me to do for you. I’ll look after the horses, I’ll feed them, I’ll watch over them-- I’ll do  _ whatever _ you need me to do,  _ please _ \--”    
  
“Sorry, kid.” Pan said, not sounding it at all. “We don’t take passengers.”    
  
“Kasieh!” the fauntling jumped back as if she had just been burned. She looked at the older hobbit, who looked truly annoyed. “ Go fetch this man our best horse.”    
She nodded. Glanced at Bilbo one last time, pleading with her eyes. Then she hurried off.   
  
Bilbo that he shouldn’t meddle, but he had a feeling that those bruises hadn’t been from the typical fauntling adventures. The fearful look in her eyes supported his idea. What if…   
  
“You have a very nice daughter,” he said, turning to look at the old hobbit. The dwarrows and the wizard gave him questioning looks. The other hobbit’s eyes just narrowed.   
  
“She’s not me daughter and ya will have to give me a decent prize for her.” he declared. That left the other four in a shocked silence.   
  
“I… I believe we heard wrong, my good sir,” Gandalf said with a frown and an incredulous look. “What do you mean ‘decent prize’?”

“Ya didn’t hear me wrong. She’s lazy but helps if ya push her hard enough. Give me a good prize and that fauntling is yours.” 

  
  


oOo

  
  


In the end, the group left with four ponies, a strong-looking mare for Gandalf… and the fauntling.   
She rode on the fourth pony, being small enough to fit between it comfortably.    
  


“Ya better pay off.” Pan grumbled, looking back at her. “Those were ten good coins you cost us.”    
  
“Master dwarf, she is a hobbit just like Bilbo is. Do not show her the same respect the ponies get.” Gandalf said gently, but the warning was clear in his voice. The dwarf grunted understanding and then turned back, remaining in silence.   
  
“Thank you. For having me.” the fauntling said in a weak voice. Bilbo and Gandalf had willingly decided to pay for the youngster’s freedom (Bilbo thought that it would have been better to just take her away without paying, but, alas, the older hobbit would have called the authorities in so they took the easier way out). Fran hadn’t been as opposed to it as Pan was, but he hadn’t been very keen on the idea of a youngster joining them on their journey. And, being a dwarf, he hadn’t been too happy about the prize either, but he was better at hiding it.    
  
“That is fine.” Gandalf replied with a smile from atop his horse. “You are to come with us to Rivendell. I have sent a message ahead to Lord Elrond. Until then, you must make sure you fulfil your promise to us about taking care of the horses.”    
  
The fauntling nodded her head eagerly. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to do, sir.”    
  
“And your name is…?” Bilbo asked her.   
  
“Kasieh. Thank you so much for taking me with you.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> *sues the faulty notes section*
> 
> Before we begin this second chapter, I have a couple of things to say.  
> First of all is that a realization reached me today: I will be in need of feedback when I begin to write Thorin and Bilbo's dynamic if I plan on getting it right (and I do). This is literally the first time I'm writing a relationship of the sort and I would love to get it right. So _please_ do let me know if I should consider changing something or add in a detail (or a few) here and there. Like I said, I will appreciate insight from my readers to make it good for everyone present here.
> 
> The second thing? Thank you for 24 kudos! *muse vybing*
> 
> Chapter warnings: Those typical traveling injuries--
> 
> (Edit: Fixed those damned spelling mistakes-- hSFSJFSKFJl)

They had ridden for hours on end, in silence for part of the journey. The further they traveled, the wilder the landscape got. The path still stood out, clumps of grass and smaller plants growing along the sides and dotting the ground. Horse prints were imprinted into the earthy ground, revealing that the path was not often untraveled.  
Bilbo had gone on a year with the comforts of Bag End (even if he hadn't fully enjoyed them; he was glad for his bed and good food, but the smial was too large for his liking). He was unused to riding on pony-back through long periods of time. He knew the skin on his thighs was irritated due to the aching and the stings they produced. He examined them once they had set up camp, lifting his right pant leg and looking at the red skin beneath it. He lowered it again with a sigh.  
What to do? 

"I have a salve for those," Kasieh said, approaching him hesitantly. "You can use it if you need it." 

"That would be helpful," Bilbo said with a small pained smile. She nodded her head and went to her horse, opening the pack she had brought with her, rummaging around it for a few seconds before taking out a small jar filled with some type of paste. She shut the pack and returned to the older hobbit, holding it out to him. Bilbo took it gratefully.

"Thank you." 

The fauntling nodded her consent, returning to her pony and sitting down on the stone next to it as Bilbo opened the jar, a sharp scent reaching his nose as he did. He applied the salve to his injuries, sighing with relief as the paste cooled down the burning pain raging over his skin. 

"Fran, go get us some firewood." Pan told his cousin, having just dug a shallow hole on the ground and filling it with pine nettles and leaves.

"Aye," Fran replied, walking deeper into the trees. Bilbo glanced up at the sky. Night was due to arrive in very much less than an hour, the sun getting closer to sinking behind the mountains. The hobbit felt fortunate and lucky that he had agreed to coming along, even more that Fran had showed up at his gate. He frowned, remembering the reason why the dwarf had been sent in the first place.  
Was Thorin going mad? He had thought that the gold was no longer a problem in Erebor; maybe he had overlooked something.  
Right. The arkenstone.  
But hadn't Gandalf taken it away? Somewhere far from the mountain and its king? Maybe the stone was able to affect the king still. Either its pull was insanely strong or the memory was too much for the king.  
Or both.  
Bilbo's train of thoughts slowed as Fran returned, arms laden with firewood that he dumped by his cousin. As Bilbo watched this, he saw Gandalf.  
Hadn't Gandalf dealt with the stone? And the ring?

The hobbit got to his feet and sat down next to Gandalf on the log the wizard had been occupying.

"I have a couple of questions. About the arkenstone." he stated. The wizard hummed.

"I thought you would ask. Tell me, what do you want to know about it?" he asked in turn, taking out his pipe from his pocket. Bilbo sat in silence for a few moments, meditating about what to ask first as he watched the dwarrows arrange the campfire.

"How strong is its influence?" the hobbit finally asked. "No, wait. Why does it affect Thorin's line? Doesn't it affect others?"

"Oh, it is as if the stone had a mind of its own." Gandalf said. There was a silence as he puffed on his pipe. "It prefers the dwarrows from Thorin's line of kings. I do not know why exactly, but I think it wants to be in the hands of a dwarf with power."

"Oh."

"Its pull, along with the curse upon the gold of the mountain, was why Thorin is best kept away from it. I have to go there every two months to make sure he does not cause another war."

"Eh?"

"I cannot get rid of the curse, but I can suppress it for some time. Tiering spell, but effective." Gandalf added.

Soon they had a fire going, the dwarrows dragging over another log to sit on. Bilbo assisted Kasieh by tying the ponies to a couple of trees within sight and then they returned to find a simple dinner of bread and ham (Fran had heated up the latter to give them something warm to chew on) awaiting them.  
The fauntling absolutely abandoned any manners she was in possession of and wolfed down her meal, earning herself worried glances from Bilbo and the dwarrows. Gandalf was not at all surprised and told her to eat his share too, saying that he had had enough to eat that morning to last him until the following day.

"I will keep the first watch," Fran announced as they all finished.

"Wake me up when ya begin to feel tired." Pan said. Fran nodded his agreement.

"If I may ask." Kasieh said quietly, wiping at her mouth, "How far away is Rivendell?"

"A few days away at most. Not too long." Fran replied, passing a hand down his beard. "And I think it will rain as well."

"No doubts about that, I am afraid." Gandalf said. "Hopefully we shall be at Rivendell's gates by the time it begins to do so."

Unfortunately, that never happened.

Bilbo woke the following day to find rain lightly pattering around him. Within minutes, it was pouring. And then there was the rumble of thunder. Not even the cloaks that Fran had handed out kept them dry or warm. While it was better than nothing, Bilbo was dripping wet within the hour, having given up trying to keep his teeth from chattering a long time ago. Worst of all was the fact that his pony had developed a cold. He patted his neck sympathetically after he sneezed a fifth time, the animal nearly tripping over a root.  
Bilbo found that it would get much worse. The path they walked on was muddy and it was hard for their ponies to walk through it, their hooves slipping on muddy stones and hidden roots underneath the mud. They tried to walk over the grass, and it would have been much better if it hadn't been flooded in rain water. However, it was better than risking a broken neck on the track.

"Can't ya stop the rain?" Pan shouted at Gandalf, who took the lead.

"If it rains, it will rain!" The wizard replied.

Their moods-- even Gandalf's-- just sank lower with every passing hour. It wasn't much fun-- in fact, none at all, to be cold and wet, your clothing sticking to your skin and the continuous squelching of the ground beneath thekr ponie's hooves.

Of course, it was their luck that the following days were unfortunately quite similar.

The rain would rage on all night long. It then stopped for an hour or two in the early morning, giving the dwarrows and the hobbits false hope. Then it returned, much to their annoyance.  
It would be an unpleasant journey to Rivendell.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> *sighs for the tenth time*
> 
> One day 'till Christmas (or more like a few hours over here XD)! I'm going to drop off a few notes before I go onto the chapter warnings and eventually the chapter itself.  
> Tomorrow-- since it is Christmas-- there may or may not be an update, but that depends on fate. Chapters will be getting longer and updates may slow to happening every other day, perhaps less by the time January shows up.  
> You never know.  
> Anyways, onto chapter warnings--
> 
> Chapter warnings: Dwarrows are stubborn and sparrows are not perfect messenger birds--
> 
> Other than that, may you all have a very merry 25th of December (both to people who don't or do celebrate Christmas)! And thank you guys for reading this fic; the kudos, views and bookmarks it has gotten where above my expectations in such a short span of time.  
> I can't thank you all enough!
> 
> Now, enough of me and let's return to the story--
> 
> (Edit: problems with wifi, so I was pretty much unable to finish the entire chapter; hopefully I'll make the next a bit longer if I have any time. Let's hope it happens--  
> Also, just finished editing the spelling mistakes. Apologies--)

It rained nonstop for two, no, three days straight. By the time the rain stopped, Bilbo found that he had developed a small (but noticeable) cold. He shivered constantly under his wet clothes and he sneezed regularly. The mocking breeze blew against his clothes, making the overwhelming cold grow worse for the poor hobbit. The dwarrows had waved it away, saying that it was no more than a regular cold which would come and go ("Ya can try takin' off yer clothes; that way they can dry out and ya won't feel too cold." "I appreciate the suggestion, but I will-- _achoo!_ \-- I will decline doing so…"). Gandalf agreed with the other two, but the wizard still gave Bilbo a mantle to replace his cloak with. As for the other hobbit, Kasieh hadn't opened her mouth for hours, traveling behind Bilbo's pony in silence and offering him a piece of cloth to use as handkerchief when he found he had lost his.

Their hopes went up, however, when Gandalf announced that they should be in Rivendell by mid-morning the following day.

"How far is that?" Fran had asked.

"Not far." Had been the wizard's merry response. Bilbo didn't miss the looks the dwarrows exchanged.

They stopped traveling for the night, setting up camp between the trees. Fran and Pan lit a fire for the first time in days (keeping a fire going had been almost impossible with all the rains). Bilbo had been relieved they had been able to do so with damp ground and wood in the forest around them. It meant warmth and warm food to eat.  
Of course, their good moods were dampened as the rain began to fall not long after.

"Mahal's beard, does it _ever_ stop raining?!" Pan roared at the sky. Kasieh nearly fell off the log she was seated on; the rest of them flinched at his outburst.

" _Then I will throw him_ myself _!" rough hands grabbing his arms, a strangled shout leaving his mouth as he struggled against iron grip--_  
Bilbo blinked away the memory with a shudder, pushing it away to the back of his mind. He didn't want to remember that now.  
They ate and then drew out their sleeping sacks, the fire extinguishing with one final hiss as it did. Bilbo took the first watch, not wanting to fall prey to the nightmares he knew were waiting for him to fall asleep.

oOo

They reached the large grasslands hours after they had finished their breakfast. It had momentarily stopped raining, but the clouds still filled the sky, hiding it away. Bilbo could remember the last time they had crossed through this place, keeping in mind that they had been close to death. He felt strangely tense as they advanced through the large, dry-grass covered expanse, half expecting wargs to jump from behind the large boulders. However, and Bilbo kept repeating this like a mantra in his mind, they seemed to be the only travelers in the land.

"And where is the entrance to Rivendell?" Fran asked (he also seemed on edge, hand upon the hilt of his battle axe).

"Not far now." Gandalf replied.

The secret entrance was challenging to find. When they did, they found that the entrance had plain-green bushes growing around the stone it was set in, hiding the opening from sight.

"I will travel on." Gandalf announced as they dismounted.

"Wh- what? Why?" Bilbo asked, a little nervous at the thought of having to enter Rivendell without the wizard's presence. The dwarrows seemed to be thinking along the lines as they looked at Gandalf, frowning.

"The ponies are not going to fit through there, and little less my horse. I will meet you soon. Be sensible and respectful to the elves there if you wish to get into Rivendell without any problems. Now, off you go!" 

The wizard didn't leave until he made sure they had all gone through the entrance. Bilbo listened to the horses walking away before following the others. The tunnel was dark, but light came in from the entrance. The walls were damp, dotted with lichens and moss. Bilbo saw Pan draw out his battle axe.

"Pan, that ain't a good idea." Fran warned his cousin. The other dwarf just waved him off.

"Just in case. Ya never know." he growled, looking around at the dark haired dwarf. When he turned his head once more, it was to find an arrow pointed directly at his face. Bilbo then understood that it was his time to act.

"Wait!" he cried out, before the stubborn dwarf could say something that would get the elf to gladly shoot him. The hobbit easily slipped past Fran, arms raised at elbow height. The elf-- a she-elf, if he could guess right-- turned her head to him.

"Kindly tell the dwarf to lower his weapon." she said.

"Pan." Fran warned. The earlier glared daggers at the elf, who just held his gaze, daring him to disobey her. He finally lowed his battle axe, returning it to his belt. The elf lowered her bow in return, but kept it ready to shoot.

"Good to see that we understand each other." she said in what Bilbo guessed was an approving tone. "I suppose that _Mithrandir_ is with you?"

"…who?" Bilbo blinked, confused.

"The wizard."

"Oh. No. Well, yes--"

"He went through another gate with our mounts." Kasieh spoke up, her usually small voice sounding loud inside the cave. The elf's gaze moved onto her, a small frown creasing her brows.

"He spoke of _a_ hobbit and two dwarves. I didn't hear of an extra traveler..." she said.

"I-I joined them. To get here." Kasieh said nervously, shifting her large feet on the ground.

"Gandalf sent a message ahead," Bilbo added.

"Ah... well, I'm afraid that I must consult with--"

"Noh! It is two dwarves and _two_ hobbits," another voice said further up the tunnel. "A messenger sparrow came by earlier to warn Lord Elrond; they got a message from Mithra... ah." the other elf trailed off upon seeing the travelers. "I see the message was delayed. I told you that sparrows are not good messenger birds!"

"Lord Elrond is expecting you. This way, if you please." Noh said in a strained voice, as if trying to stop herself from scolding the other elf like a mother would to her fauntling. She turned and walked by the elf, pausing to whisper something in his ear. Then the two walked off.  
Pan muttered something underneath his breath-- earning himself a nudge from his cousin-- before leading the way further up the tunnel. The other followed by behind. Bilbo couldn't help the small, amused smile pulling at his lips.

oOo

They were to be given fresh clothes, warm rooms, beds and food as soon as they were done speaking to the Lord of Rivendell. Said lord was already waiting for them in the beautiful hall the elves led them to. Gandalf-- surprisingly-- was already there. They both looked up when the other four arrived at the room, accompanied by the elves.

"Thank you for bringing them here. You are dismissed." the lord said, waving a hand to the other two. They bowed and then left the room.

"I am pleased to have you all here," the elf said, walking to the much, much shorter people. "Master Baggins, it is a pleasure to meet you again."

Bilbo smiled with a little but respectful bow. "The same goes for you, my Lord."

"Good to know, my friend. Dwarrows, it has been some time since I had your people in my halls. A pleasure to have them again."

Fran and Pan bowed respectfully as well. "Fran and Pan, at your service."

"And I at yours. And you." he stopped in front of Kasueh, who took a small step back. "Young hobbit, Gandalf sent a message ahead, but it was delayed. I learned that you had wanted to come to Rivendell, but I ignore the reason. May I have a word with you, after you have eaten, showered and changed into clean and dry clothes?"

"Ye- yes, my Lord." Kasieh squeaked out with a low bow.

"I will be looking towards it. Now, you must all be hungry, tired and cold from your journey. Food has been brought to your assigned chambers as well as new clothes. I won't keep you any longer. Off you go."

"Thank you."

"There are elves outside these doors; ask them for the directions and they will lead you there."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy, notes section decided to work this time!  
> As we all know, I said I may not be able to put new chapter  
> Well, guess what  
> The odds were in my favor XD
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Uhhhh... nada, to be honest...
> 
> (Edit: made this chapter even longer because I felt unsatisfied with the earlier result. My bad--)

Bilbo’s first thought upon entering his quarters was that he needed to have a shower. And desperately. He undressed, leaving his clothes draped on a stool just outside his bathroom door. The marble stone-made tub had been filled with warm, steaming water while he had done so, making the air inside the large room feel warm and inviting, like a mother's embrace.    
The water itself was a relief. It soothed the aches along his knees and arms, as well as lessening the sting of several cuts acquired during the travel in the woods. Within minutes, his skin, which had previously been stone cold due to long days exposed to constant rain, was now warm once more. Not only that, but the steam seemed to be clearing up his blocked nose better and breathing was much easier, and not to mention a lot better than before. 

Soon he was dressed in a white tunic with silver embroidery along the folds, paired with white shorts to match. His hair, which had previously been wet and filthy after having slept on the ground, was back to its usual softness and bronze coloring. The elf standing outside in the corridor let him know that his other clothes had been taken away for washing and that food had been brought up to his quarters. Bilbo found this was true, finding a platter filled with various greens.    
He ate the salad and vegetables he had been given, only managing to hang on onto his manners because his Baggins side pestered him to do so. His Took side, however, ket trying to convince him wo wolf it all down. Exhaustion won him over, along with a full stomach, and soon the hobbit was peacefully snoring, stretched out on his bed’s covers.

oOo

They stayed in Rivendell for three days before the great eagles arrived to take them to Erebor. During that time, Bilbo’s cold nearly left his system and the dwarrows grew more trusting of the elves when they found that they had no intentions of doing whatever they had expected from them (at least, what Pan had expected them to do…). Gandalf himself got more pipe weed as a benefit, as well as a bucket-load of information from Lord Elrond. As for Kasieh, she would be remaining in Rivendell (her own choice, of course) as a stablehand, since she had a large knowledge on the care of horses and she had found the elven mounts quite fascinating to be with. She had looked relieved at the elf’s acceptance when she had told Bilbo the news.   
  
And so the three days passed by, faster than Bilbo would have liked them to do so (not like he didn't want to get to Erebor; the simple explanation to this is that sleeping on a bed and away from the rain with a roof over their heads was quite pleasant). He found himself a little reluctant to leave and instantly kicked himself under the dining table when he came to this realization, earning himself worried and perplexed looks from the others around him. 

The eagles’ arrival was announced by the loud flapping of wings, like stormy winds. Bilbo followed Fran out onto one of the courtyards, looking up to find six of the large birds circling the sky above them while gripping the rails, the birds coming lower and closer to the ground, the trees shaking with the wind they sent with their wings. A smaller bird (it looked like an ant compared to the great birds of prey) flew up to the bigger animals. Bilbo expected them to snap at it, but they just flew further away from them, disappearing over the trees as they landed somewhere near.   
  
“Come on,” Fran said, walking down a flight of stairs. “ They will be waiting for us.”    
Bilbo trotted after him, excitement pounding in his ears in the form of a beating heart. Despite having to leave Rivendell, he was still eager to see old friends once more.   
They reached a large clearing among the trees where three of the eagles had landed, the others circling the air high above them. Gandalf stood before one, gesturing and talking as he did, the massive bird bent at eye height. Fran stopped walking, wary, but Bilbo walked past him, going over to hesitantly stand close by to Gandalf, who was speaking in a different language. The eagle chirped out something and Gandalf looked around him.   
  
“Ah, Bilbo.” he said. “Go tell the others we leave soon. Gather your things, say your goodbyes.”    
Bilbo nodded and turned, half-jogging back to the dwarf.   
  
“What did he say?” Fran asked him.   
  


“We need to get the others and our stuff.” the hobbit replied.   
  
“Ah. I’ll go get Pan. He passed out.”   
  
“Wh--”   
  
“He had a little too much beer. I told him to be careful…” the dwarf shrugged it off. The two of them hurried off, back to the wing where their rooms were. Kasieh was up, watching the sky with awe directed at the eagles. Pan had just stumbled out of his room, pressing a hand against his temples.   
  
“Are you already leaving?” Kasieh asked them when she saw Fran and Bilbo arrive..   
  
“Yes.” Bilbo replied. “Are you sure you will be fine here?”    
  
Kasieh chuckled darkly, slipping her hands into her shorts' pockets and looking back at the eagles. “A lot better than before in the Shire.”    
  
They got their things. Kasieh followed them back to the clearing where the eagles waited for them, keeping to the back of the group.    
  
“By me beard. Are we going on  _ those _ ?” Pan said, shock coloring his features.   
  
“Yeah. Why? Are you scared?” Fran said, quirking an eyebrow.   
  
“Me? Scared? Are ya delusional?” the dwarf marched off towards Gandalf with a scoff. Fran followed after, laughing at the fact that his cousin's hand had darted to his axe's hilt when one of the birds looked at him with uncanny inteligence. Bilbo turned to Kasieh.   
  
“It was a pleasure to meet you.”    
  
“Same goes to you. Have a safe travel, Master Baggins.”    
  
  


Kasieh watched as her liberators were helped onto the eagles, managing a small smile watching the dwarrows do so. She returned Bilbo's wave. Soon the younger hobbit was watching the eagles take off with them, the great birds sailing over the sky like ships over a sea.    
They were no more than dots on the cloudy sky after a few seconds longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter will be longer--  
> Until then!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> I'm not even gonna bother--
> 
> Yup, what you see on your screen. Double update. Before we go onto the chapter warnings, let me say that I've made the previous chapter longer because I was unsatisfied with the previous result. Second is that things are going to get worse during the upcoming chapters.......  
> I hope you are all having some charming holidays ^^
> 
> Chapter warnings: accidentally-provoked suicide thoughts; possible case of frost bite and the possibility of the upcoming angst carrying out for, uhh, another two chapters. Maybe less if you guys manage to convince me to have more mercy, ah ha ha--

Snow was nice during winter (if you had a stove to keep you from freezing to death). It coated the usually green hills in white, changing the world over night. Children could make snowmen on it, play on it-- it could even be used as a resource!  
Rain could also be nice (if you had a roof above your head). It kept hobbits inside their homes; one could curl up by the fire and drink hot cocoa and read for hours on end while the rain pattered outside. The next day could be one with puddles to hop around in and water rich in minerals to water plants with.

Rain _and_ snow?  
Now, that was like being in hell to Bilbo Baggins, even if the eagle's plumage kept him a little warm. Ah, and not to mention the raging winds blowing all around him. His teeth chattered, shivers traveled all over him and no matter how much he tried to draw warmth from the feathers he clung onto, the cold would never go away.  
_Today would be a good day to die..._ Bilbo thought weakly, sneezing. He rubbed his gloved hands together, covering his face with one while holding on with the other. Snow dirtied his hair and cacked on his eyelashes. Everytime he blinked it sent chills up to his skull. The raindrops themselves seemed to leave bruises-- invisible ones, though-- all over him. His aches had returned, we was shivering horribly.  
He sneezed again, wiping away at his eyes before they could freeze over.  
His cold had returned, too. In just a couple of hours.  
_I thought it would be a pleasant ride..._ Bilbo thought sadly, peering down at the world below. Stone spread out all over, covered in snow. One fall and one would die instantly. Either from the fall itself, or the horrifying cold that would take over his body.  
If Bilbo had the misfortune of falling, he would rather choose the first fate.  
Quick and easy. Painless.  
Would it be a misfortune? Or would there be a silver lining to i--

 _Bilbo Baggins, what in **Mahal's beard** are you thinking of?_ He slapped himself, breathing quickly.  
Not again.  
_Ay, but it's true, isn't it?_ a little, cruel voice hissed. Bilbo recoiled, nearly losing his hold. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply and releasing a shaky breath. 

A squawk brought him back to the cold reality he was living. He found he had accidentally been pulling on the eagle's feathers too hard. The animal twisted it's neck to look at him with what could be a frown. 

"S-sorry." he yelled. His eyes widened. "Watch ou--"

Too late. The peak had come out of nowhere, and the eagle was flying straight towards it. Bilbo braced himself for certain death, burying his head in the plumage. However, the eagle smoothly avoided the obstacle, shrilling out a warning to the others before tilting upwards. Bilbo had to stay in his position because of the sudden wind that was threatening to throw him off.  
Then there was no more wind.  
Even the rain and the snow had miraculously stopped falling.  
Were they dead? Had they hit the mountain?  
Well, at least it had been quick.  
He looked up and blinked at the sight surrounding him. They were most certainly not dead, but far up in the sky, above the clouds. It was, however, rather cold up there. The eagle flew smoothly, letting the wind carry it along without having to flap its wings.

"That was a close one!" Fran shouted, somewhere to his left.

"Eh?" Bilbo looked around, seeing said dwarf dusting snow off his beard, carelessly not holding on. The other eagles were emerging from under the clouds one by one, shrilling at one another, as if to make sure they had all made it.

"Bilbo? Are you alright?" Bilbo looked down to see Gandalf seated comfortable on the eagle carrying him, looking back up at the shaken hobbit.

"I-I'm fine." Bilbo said.

"Ya better be! Imagine what our king would do to us if he found ya were dead--"

"Pan, unnecessary."

"We will be having to land sometime soon. The eagles need rest before we continue. Those are harsh flying conditions." Gandalf announced.

"When will we get to Erebor?" Fran called.

"A day and a half. Until then, we better brace ourselves. The weather gets even worse the closer we get to the highest peaks." Gandalf explained. Bilbo felt himself grow less hopeful at the wizard's words.  
That was not good at all.

"By me beard. We won't make it at the pace..." Pan lamented.

"We will, my dear dwarf. We will."

Bilbo decided he would trust Gandalf's words. He brushed snow off his coat, sniffing and wiping at his eyes as he readied himself for the return back under the clouds. The eagle he rode slowly began to tilt down. One of the eagles they weren't riding took the lead, tilting its wings and disappearing under the clouds. The rest followed. Bilbo held on tightly to the feathers as the wind attempted to knock him off.  
Now hit his face along with the rain. He watched the peaks come closer into view, outlines blurry to his sight. The lead eagle circled one of the peaks and then dove into a large hole on the stone that Bilbo had missed. The hobbit watched as they reached the entrance.

They soon found themselves inside a large, roomy cave big enough to fit twenty eagles-- or more!--, mammoth sized stalactites and stalagmites decorating it. The eagles landed on these, all of which were strong enough to support their weight. Bilbo ventured to look down. The floor of the cave was filled with straw and... some very big bird droppings.

"We will be passing the night here!" Gandalf called. "Rest while you can; try not to fall off. A fall could result in your death."

Bilbo didn't hear what else the wizard said. He sighed, burying his head in the soft feathers and almost instantly falling asleep and prey to his exhaustion.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOO!!!  
> Here goes the tenth chapter to this fic! I’m actually surprised it’s gone on for this long XD Let’s see how long it can go on for, eh?  
> Anyways, thanks to all of you guys who left kudos-- 30!--, bookmarked this fic and commented  
> It really boosts up my motivation!  
> That's not all, folks  
> I am hard at work composing illustrations for this; I will hopefully have them all done by the time this fic is done and I will put them in the very last chapter as a "picture gallery". If anybody wants to draw anything as well, I'll happily put it there as well (with credit to the artist, obviously).  
> Anyways, onto the chapter warnings--
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Accidentally-provoked suacide thoughts (again T^T), more angst and near-death experiences.  
> You are welcome--

  
Bilbo woke up, but he didn’t open his eyes. He sighed against his feather-soft bed covers, running a hand along it. When had been the last time he had felt this comfortable? He rolled over, cracking his eyes open. The bed seemed to tilt over, causing him to lose any balance he had had before, rolling down what seemed like a hill. He let out a strangled yell, scrabbling for purchase.    
He found it, but it came by hard. The wind was thrown out of him roughly as his stomach hit something hard, his hands instinctively holding on onto the warm, brown feathers that surrounded him. He stayed like that, panting, for a few moments before slowly-- very slowly-- pulling himself onto his knees and hands, climbing back up to the sleeping eagle’s neck area where he had been sleeping on earlier. The thing that had stopped his fall was the eagle’s folded wing.    
  
Bilbo reached the neck, pulling himself up with some difficulty. He then tried to slow down his quick-paced heart beat, wiping at his nose and eyes, looking around him.   
The wind howled outside. The cave was filled with the eagles’ slow, calm breathing, accompanied by some quieter snores coming from the two dwarrows. Bilbo managed to calm himself. He had nearly fallen off, but what mattered was that he hadn’t. He was fine. Breathing. Alive.   
And cold as well.    
He wrapped his coat closer about him, rubbing his hands and putting his gloves back on. All the while shivering. He suddenly sneezed, the sound shattering the near-quiet of the cave. The eagle startled awake, looking around at him.   
  
“Sorry,” he said apologetically. The eagled chirped out something and then turned away from the hobbit, spreading and stretching out its great wings. Bilbo held on tightly as it stamped its feet, shaking itself (and nearly throwing him off once more). It then called out loudly, waking up the other eagles around them.    
  
“Mornin’,” Pan yawned, stretching up his arms and looking around him. “Do we leave now?”    
  
“I think so. Get something to eat.” Gandalf said, his voice clear. Bilbo wondered if the wizard had even slept. He dug into his pack, taking out a piece of bread and eating it hungrily.    
  
“Would you like something?” Bilbo asked the bird beneath him. The animal shook its head at him.   
  
“They will hunt on the way back from Erebor, Bilbo,” Gandalf informed him, “at which we should be arriving by the end of the day if the odds are in our favor.”    
  
Bilbo ate the rest of the bread and then prepared himself to cling on to the eagle as it turned to face the exit. The lead eagle jumped out first, followed by the rest. Bilbo buried his face on the feathers as the wind assaulted him, snow and rain attacking him from all sides and getting rid of whatever warmth he had acquired earlier in sleep. However, it didn’t last much. The eagles all flew up, above the clouds. There was no rain nor snow, but it was still rather chilly. Bilbo was glad for this change, straightening up to look at the strange world around them.    
  
Hours passed. It was relatively quiet, unless you could count in the occasional screech of an eagle to its nearest neighbor. Bilbo slept for a short part of the journey, making sure he was safely seated so as to not fall off. He didn’t fall off during sleep.   
I guess we all know what this means, don’t we?   
We blinked himself awake, slowly straightening up and yawning. He realized too late that his hands were not gripping the eagle’s feathers. The great bird carrying him dove down unexpectedly, causing him to yelp. He scrambled for hold.    
Too late.   
The hobbit found himself hovering in the air for a few seconds, watching as the eagle got further away from him. He then began to fall, flailing in the air, shouting for help.    
He was going to die.   
He would fall. He would die--   
_ At least it will be painless. _   
Wind slapped at his face as he fell into the clouds. Rain hit his face. He tried to shield his face, but the wind slapped his arms away.    
So it wouldn’t be as painless as he had hoped.   
He couldn’t see the ground. In fact, all he could see was the gray of clouds. His vision was blurry from the rain, things were passing by in a blur as he fell further and further down.   
Down to his death.  
Would he die instantly? Was there any hope for salvation?  
... but did he truly wish for a salvation?  
Bilbo startled at that.  
What did he mean?  
Of course he did!

“Bilbo!”   
  
Was that _Mahal_ calling for him?   
  
“Bilbo, you fool of a Baggins! Grab my hand!”    
  
Ah, no, it was Gandalf.    
  
He forced his eyes open-- even though it hurt to do so-- in time to see a blur of feathers beneath him. The wind was knocked out of him as he collided with something else, strong arms wrapping tightly around his chest and holding him in place. He was shivering badly. He found that he was crying as well, but he couldn’t tell why exactly. Relief? Fear?   
A hand patted his back.   
  
“There, there. You are safe.” a gentle voice said into his ear. He felt like a fauntling once more, gazing up at his mother’s warm eyes to find comfort there after he had scraped his knee in one of his little adventures.   
He didn’t see Belladonna’s eyes, though. What he found were Gandalf’s blue ones, filled with worry and fear. But relief too.   
  
“Are you alright?” the wizard asked him. He managed a small nodd, burying himself deeper into the wizard’s robes, shivering badly. The tall man murmured something, a hand touching his forehead. More talking, but it sounded muffled to the hobbit’s usually keen ears. His eyes fell closed, his mind into darkness. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curse the notes section---
> 
> Allow me to enlighten you about how I draft my chapters.  
> First I write them on paper and then type them onto the computer, editing whatever I deem necessary and adding and/or removing parts.  
> Lately, the notebook I'm using has gone on about two chapters without the first draft. Why?  
> My muse has gotten the better of me XD  
> Yup, what you see here: second upload for today!  
> BTW, I just completed one of the ilustrations ;) I'll put it at the very last chapter once the story concludes. Patience, my friends!  
> Also, not as an afterthought, thank you for 35 kudos! I'm happy people are enjoying the read ^^
> 
> Chapter warnings: a longer chapter :)

Gandalf had many friends, being a traveler and a wizard. But one of his best friends had been the hobbit Belladonna Took. He had only known her for little less than a quarter of his very long life-- for he had lived to see many, many ages-- but the hobbit's death had shaken him, along with her husband's.  
Leaving their only son orphaned and quite alone in the world.  
So of course that Gandalf was unwilling to just let his life slip through his fingers like sand. Gandalf had known about the danger of using magic-- especially when they were high above ground and prone to falling off-- but he had used it anyways, fearing that the hobbit would die before he was able to set eyes on Erebor.  
He had the halfling seated before him, keeping a secure arm around the hobbit, hand flat against his friend's chest as he muttered underneath his breath in a language few understood.  
The hobbit's sudden fall had scared him half to death. Thank his beard that Gandalf had been paying attention, though, and thus rescuing him from falling to his death. He had failed to notice Bilbo's fever earlier, although he had been a little worried about the hobbit's increase in coughing and the fact that he always looked miserable. Could it have caused him to fall in some way?  
Gandalf couldn't say, but Bilbo had burned up terribly. Maybe they should have delayed the flight over the Misty Mountains, but even then he would still have caught it.  
And anyways, it would be rude to keep the eagles waiting.  
Gandalf sighed and returned attention to the other birds ahead, making sure that neither dwarf would end up falling off.

oOo

Bilbo's eyes flickered open only to snap back closed as little stabs of sunlight assaulted his vision. He nearly hissed like a feral wildcat (he had had an encounter with one of the unpleasant animals as a child; it hadn't ended happily either) when it did, weakly lifting his hands up to shield his face.

"Ah, Bilbo. At last awake." an amused voice teased from behind him. He didn't have the energy to get shocked or struggle against the arm holding him in place. Well, not that he wanted to do so. He tried to speak, but his throat was dry and he was thirsty. Something told him that speaking would hurt.  
He hummed instead to let the wizard know he was awake.

"We shall be in Erebor soon enough, my dear hobbit. Do hold on until we can get you to a healer." Gandalf said. Bilbo expected more amusement, but all he heard in his friend's voice was a tinge of fear and worry. It reminded him of his mother's voice for a reason.  
It was a painful thought to bear.  
Bilbo wanted to ask how long 'soon' was, but exhaustion and weakness were slowly taking over his systems once more.  
Gandalf worried for a moment when the hobbit fell slack against him, checking Bilbo's pulse.  
Alive, of course.  
The wizard sighed tiredly.

" _How long until Erebor?_ " he asked the eagle they rode.

" _Two hours, less if we quicken our flight. We will do so if the halfling is in terrible conditions, at the border of death._ " the eagle added. Gandalf thought for a moment.

" _Can you travel faster? I fear we will lose him._ "

" _We are strong birds. As you wish._ " the eagle called out to the others, alerting them of the change of events. The dwarrows were startled as the birds changed their speed, flying even faster to the point where if their riders were too careless they would be flung off like ragdolls.

oOo

The landscape quickly changed, along with the weather conditions. The eagles were now able to fly back underneath the clouds, having left behind the worst of the Misty Mountains' peaks and approaching the end of the section they had traveled through. Soon the treetops of the trees in Mirkwood appeared on the ground. The mountain of Erebor was visible in the clouded horizon, rising high and proud. Gandalf gave Bilbo a small squeeze.  
He just had to hang on for half an hour and they would be there. He would be saved.

oOo

Bilbo had the strangest of dreams. Wel, if he were to be honest, they were... nightmares. He had encountered Smaug underneath the mountain, only that the dragon's red scales were lit in fire, cruel eyes following Bilbo as he scuttled around the treasury like a mouse running from a cat. Then he fell into the gold. It pulled him down and he shouted out for help, but he was suffocating. His hand was grasped by another hand and he was hauled out. He was about to smile at his saviour, only to find that Thorin's eyes were stone cold, mouth formed into a thin, angry line. Bilbo could only stare at the eyes, dangled over the gold.

"Where is the arkenstone?" Thorin had asked in a voice that sounder far too similar to Smaug's.

"I- I don't know." Bilbo had stammered. Thorin had sighed. He had released his hand and into the gold he had sunk once more. He had pleaded and screamed for his help as the dwarf left him to drown in the sea of gold surrounding him. Then it was as if the gold melted, turning to liquid. He flailed, struggling to stay at the surface, but a terrible sight had met him.  
The last thing he had seen before being surrounded by darkness was the dragon's jaws opening right under him and snapping shut.

Bilbo bolted up with a strangled yell, hitting his head on a cold surface. He reeled, crying out in pain and clutching at his forehead. It was wet in a warm liquid. 

"Mister Bagins, I would truly appreciate it if Master Oin's hard work did not go to waste." a gentle voice said from beside him. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the mid-darkness around him as he tried to make sense of what was going on. Hands took his, pulling them from his forehead.

"Hmmm. It only looks like a little cut. Do not move; I will get it fixed in a moment." the sound of a chair scraping back and Bilbo watched as another dwarf he didn't know made its way to a cabinet against a wall, returning with a roll of bandages.

"Stay still, will you?" the same voice told him. He did, the same hands gently dabbing at his cut. He bit back a whimper, hands trembling. Before he knew it, his head was wrapped in a bandage.

"There you go. You can look at me now if you wish to." Bilbo did, blinking at who he found by his bedside.  
It was a dwarf, but there was something different. The face was more feminine, the beard being not much more than a stubble cut close to the chin, black, raven hair falling about their shoulders. 

_A dwarrowdam,_ Bilbo realized. And one with a familiar face. The eyes-- blue, filled with intelligence and worry for the hobbit--the brow...

"My name is Dis. Princess Dis. I believe you know my brother, King Thorin Oakenshield?" she waited for a response. Bilbo slowly nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. After a short silence, she smiled kindly at him. "I shall go get Thorin for you. He had to leave briefly to attend to official business. Is there anyone else you have in mind? Any questions you need me to answser?"

"Actually, I have one?" Bilbo said in a raspy voice. Dis waited. "Uh... am I in Erebor?"

"You are. You arrived a day ago; Gandalf told us that you had suffered of a fever so we had you brought up to Oin's quarters so he could treat you. I shall call him now as well as Thorin, so he can check on you." Bilbo nodded and sank further back in his pillows, wrapping his arms about him and shutting his eyes. The princess gave him one last curious look before getting back to her feet and leaving him alone to his thoughts. Barely a few seconds passed before the door opened once more. Bilbo opened his eyes and looked around to find Oin entering the room with a grin on his face. Bilbo couldn't help his smile either.

"Master Oin," he greeted weakly.

"Bah, no time for pleasantries. We're friends, aren't we?" the dwarf laughed taking a seat next to the hobbit. Bilbo smiled. "Well then. Allow me to do a checkup on you. I heard you had to go through quite a few falls during the journey here, and not to mention a fever or a cold."

Bilbo allowed the healer to check him; Oin looked at his arms, bending them to check the functionality of the joints. He checked Bilbo's forehead-- it was still burning, though not as much as it had been before-- and then his newest cut.

"And this? I don't think it was here when I last checked on you, was it?"

"No, I only just got it." Bilbo said. Oin hummed and re-wrapped it, putting some kind of paste over it before doing so.

"Aye," the dwarf confirmed with a nodd. "You still have a fever, but it should be gone in a few days if you're careful with what you do. You have a bruised rib, hints of past frostbite on your toes--" he looked at Bilbo's shocked expression. "I won't have to amputate it; it nearly happened but you somehow healed. It must have been very cold. Now, I have some tea that could help--"

The door suddenly slammed open. Bilbo yelped and nearly hit his head against the bed frame behind him. Oin didn't look surprised at all as he stood and turned.

"Your majesty," he said with a bow.

"Is he fine?" Thorin asked in a slightly trembling voice as he entered the room. Oin looked at the shocked hobbit, who was still recovering from the interruption.

"Unless you've given the poor lad a mental trauma, then yes."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forty. One. FREAKING. KUDOS!!!  
> Guyssss, thank you so much for sticking with me!!!  
> I honestly didn’t expect so many, but I’m happy that you guys are liking it so far!  
> Anyways, onto chapter 12 and some “family fluff” because, why not--  
> I mean, come on, Bilbo’s finally back at Erebor after 12 chapters and it is about time we give him something bright to hold on to--  
> Also, apologies for a late update. But hey, you get a longer chapter!
> 
> Chapter warnings: FLUFFINESS *maniacal laughing* and a slight switch in POV (aka, you guys will be hearing more coming from Thorin's brain)

"Thorin?" 

The king had been in the forges that afternoon, having been called down by Bofur so he could see the materials that had been imported from the Iron Hills. He could have sent Fili or Kili instead to do it for him, but he had neglected Royal duties for a little too long, seated by the bedside of one certain hobbit who had arrived the previous night and had stayed unconscious since then. Thorin turned around to see his sister, the crown princess Dis, make her way towards him and Bofur, who had fallen silent when she had called the king's name. Thorin frowned.

"Did anything happen?" he asked, keeping his voice in check.

"Nothing bad, brother. The little halfling woke up. Oin is tending to him now." Dis blinked at him innocently, but her intelligent, sharp, blue eyes studied his face. "I thought you might want to see him."

"We will continue discussing this later," he turned to Bofur. The dwarf nodded. He then cleared his throat.

"Is it fine if I come to see him as well?" he asked nervously. Thorin smiled.

"Of course. You're a friend to him as much as I am. Leave someone else in charge of organizing the materials; you can come back later." The king said.

"Thank you." Bofur did a little bow before hurrying over to another dwarf. Thorin waited impatiently as the two discussed quickly, Bofur gesturing to the crates that had just been brought in. The other dwarf nodded in understanding and Bofur joined them. Thorin led the way, making sure he wasn't going too fast but unable to keep himself from going at a rapid walk with long strides. He knew that Dis would chide him after this with countless questions: who was this Hobbit? In fact, what was a hobbit? What was he doing in Erebor?  
What did he mean to Thorin?  
Thorin shuddered as Dis' voice purred these questions in his head. They reached Oin's quarters. Thorin didn't hesitate when he opened the door, making sure to keep a straight, regal looking face as he opened the door.  
It fell to worry when he saw the healer bent over the hobbit, a bandage around the latter's forehead.

"Is he fine?"

oOo

Bilbo was able to regain control over his expression, curling his mouth into a happy smile and straightening up on his cot.

"Th--"

"Bilbo!" both Fili and Kili shouted in unison, pushing their way past the king like a pair of over-excited fauntlings and throwing themselves at Bilbo in a hug. Bilbo yelped, but not from pain, but rather surprise. Both dwarrows knew that the hobbit wasn't in the right conditions and weak, so what would have been a fierce hug was now a gentle hug. Bilbo regained his smile, wrapping his arms around their necks and leaning in to rest his head between their shoulders.

"Oh, how much I missed you two," the hobbit said truthfully.

"Same here, Uncle Bilbo." Kili replied, voice slightly muffled.

"Eh?"

"You're like an uncle to us. Maybe even a sibling." Fili said, pulling back. Kili did as well.

"A sibling?" the younger brother echoed. A silence.

"Nah, uncle fits him better." Fili agreed, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"Well then, give your Uncle some space." Dis said, an amused tone in her voice. The two dwarrows backed away from the bed, exchanging grins. Thorin entered the room, accompanied by Dis and Bofur, who had taken his hat off and was holding it to his chest.

"Bofur!" Bilbo said happily.

"Bilbo, ya old chap!" the dwarf said gleefully, slipping past and accepting the hobbit's hug.

"'Old'? I may be fifty-four, but it isn't _that_ old," Bilbo laughed as the older dwarf drew back.

"Ah well..." Bofur grinned at him. "The rest of the Company are eager to see ya. We'll make a toast and a banket in yer honor when ya are able to get out of bed. Eh, Thorin? What'da ya say?"

"I can't say no to that," the king said, smiling. Bilbo turned his eyes to Thorin and quirked his eyebrows.

"Well, aren't you going to hug the 'old timer'?" he said, spreading out his arms. Thorin laughed and moved forward, wrapping his arms about him. Bilbo had meant it as a joke (at least, mostly as a joke) and hadn't expected the king to accept. He stayed still for a moment before returning the hug, resting his forehead against the king's soldier. They drew back after a few moments. 

Dis watched this go, not failing to notice a little shift in her brother's posture. She had been watching him carefully ever since they had received the message saying that a hobbit would be making the journey from the Shire to Erebor. Dis had been at the Shire when she was younger; a place of rolling green hills and comfort. A little paradise compared to several places she knew.  
Why a _hobbit_ \--of all creatures that Mahal had created-- wanted to abandon the comforts of his homeland for the sake of coming to Erebor, she had no idea.  
However, Dis was watchful. She rarely missed out details.  
Her lips curled a tiny bit upon seeing the tips of the hobbit's ears grow red.  
Well, this was an interesting fellow she had in mind to keep an eye on...

oOo

"Beorn gave me this to give to you," Gandalf told Bilbo, holding out a little jar in a hand that he had magically taken from within his robes. Bilbo frowned a little, taking the jar from the wizard and twisting the top open.

"Honey?" he asked, sniffing at the sweet, thick liquid within it.

"Indeed. He said that if you took a spoonful and let it melt in your mouth it would help with a sore throat. He also mentioned that it works wonderfully in tea." Gandalf added. Bilbo nodded, dipping a finger in and licking the sweetness that came stuck to his skin.

"Oh wow. This is good honey." he said, shutting the jar once more. 

"He said his bees made it themselves." Gandalf said as the hobbit carefully placed it on his little bedside table. "Have you seen anyone from the company?"

"Oh, Bombur came by earlier with some stew. And Dori, Ori and Nori also visited. Ori brought a few books so I wouldn't grow bored." he patted the little stack of books on his bedside table fondly. "Dori also brought me a change of clothes. I also saw Dwalin. And Gloin. He brought his wife and child along as well, to wish me a good recovery. Other than them and Thorin, Kili, Fili and Bofur-- oh, and Oin too-- that's pretty much it."

Gandalf nodded, having lost him along the lines of Dwalin but content with his answer. The wizard stood up.

"Well, I will leave you to rest. I must deal with a certain treasure." he said, taking his staff from where it was leaning against the wall. 

"Oh, alright." Bilbo said, a little disappointed to see the wizard leave but understanding otherwise. Gandalf seemed to know this and offered a small, kind smile.

"I shall be back to see you before I leave the mountain. And do take a little of Beorn's honey; it will do you well. Now rest, my dear hobbit. It has been a long journey."  
Bilbo watched the wizard leave before turning to the jar when the door clicked shut. He took it into his smaller hands, opening it and tilting it to pour a little down his throat. It soothed the aching in his throat and he kept some of it on his tongue, setting the jar back down and burrowing down underneath his covers with a small sigh. He could hear Oin through the other side of the door as the healer went about his business and fell asleep to those sounds.

oOo

Bilbo found himself in the treasury once more. He looked around, but there wasn't a dragon in sight. He let out a relieved sigh, creeping along as quietly as he could. Which wasn't very quietly since the coins made noises as he walked through them.  
He had one goal in mind, and that was to find the Arkenstone. He lost footing and his right foot sunk underneath the gold. He managed to pull it out, his breath hitching as he paused for a moment, taking the pause to calm himself down. The glow of the treasures around him was sickening. He felt wrong in there.

"What are you doing in here?" 

Bilbo jolted, turning around to find Dis standing on the edge of the treasures, a puzzled expression on her face.  
Bilbo opened and closed his mouth various times, but no sound came out. He shifted his foot and he was suddenly falling again. It was painful. He rolled down a seemingly endless pile of gold, yelping as his weak body hit the hard surfaces of the gold all around him.

"Master Baggins?"

He was crying. Why was he crying?

"Oh, by Mahal's beard--"

He rose to hands and knees, but his hands slipped and he fell once mlre. Strong hands wrapped about him, holding him in place. 

"Master Bagins? Are you alright?" Dis asked worriedly. Bilbo shook his head, babbled something.

"Mother?" That was Kili.

"... fine. I believe... Baggins was sleep-walking." Dis' voice was blurred as well as her image. Bilbo could feel himself ebbing away, but he couldn't tell why.

"Moth... help you--"

"No... need Oin."

And then Bilbo remembered no more.

oOo

"Mother, let me help you--"

"No. We need Oin. Go wake him. I'll get Mister Baggins back to his quarters." Dis said, easily taking the hobbit into her arms. "Go on, hurry!"

Her youngest son turned and ran back the way he had come as fast as his legs could carry him. Dis went slower, realizing that the hobbit had fallen unconscious. She hurried her pace and was soon close to Oin's quarters (thankfully they were no more than two floors up and a few corridors away from the treasury) when the door opened and out came the dwarf himself, dressed in a sleeping gown but looking wide awake.

"Can you please take him to his cot, Your Highness?"

Oin checked on the hobbit while Kili stood back with his mother.

"What happened?"

"I do not know, to tell you the truth. I found him in the treasury. He was mumbling to himself. I think he may have been sleepwalking." Dis answered.

"But how could he have gone two floors down? To the treasury?" Kili asked her. The two stared at the hobbit for a little longer as Oin fussed over him.

"I truly don't know, my son."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> *heavy breathing* 45 kudos. You guys--  
> Also, happy to announce that I am working on another story, also on the Hobbit. Oi. That doesn't mean I am abandoning this--
> 
> Chapter warnings: shorter chapter this time :( Hopefully the next I'll make longer

Bilbo felt rather tired, if he could tell the truth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, weakly propping himself up on a pained arm. He felt cold, causing him to unconsciously pull his bed covers a little higher.  
He had had a bad nightmare. He had been in the treasury. Something had been pulling him in and he couldn't stop.  
And then Dis had appeared. He had fallen. She had caught him, folded him in her arms and then he had heard a different voice. Bilbo frowned, trying to recall who it belonged to... Kili. Yes, he was sure it had been Kili's voice.  
But he couldn't remember anything past that point.  
Bilbo sat in his bed, bathed in shadows. He suddenly felt sick. Something rushed up his throat--  
The poor hobbit scrambled over to the left side of his bed just as acid left his mouth. He couldn't breathe properly, he was shaking badly, tears stung his eyes--  
Bilbo whimpered, falling slack on the bed, his hands tightening around the edge. He heard a click, a crack of light entering the room as the door opened. He looked up with wide eyes to see Oin standing at the doorway.

"I… I'm s-s…" the hobbit couldn't speak properly, his attempt of an apology coming out miserably. In fact, he felt miserable. He wiped away a tear with a trembling hand, feeling oh so wretched.

"Master Baggins, do you feel sick?" Oin's hands gently moved him into a sitting position, rearranging the pillows behind him. He checked his face, went and returned, wiping at his mouth with a cloth, giving him water... Then Bilbo realized that he was crying a little, and with this realization came even more tears. Oin gave him a different handkerchief to wipe them with and murmured comforting words that Bilbo couldn't hear properly because everything was blurred and slurred.

"There. Go back to sleep." That was something he understood. Bilbo shook his head weakly, hoping that Oin would understand. He couldn't go to sleep. He just couldn't face _them_. 

"I'll stay with you... you up if you have a night… fine… shh... g…"

And then he saw nor heard no more as the darkness reclaimed him.

oOo

Bilbo woke up to hear snoring. He didn't have the will nor the energy to get up yet, so he just opened his eyes to find a dwarf by his bedside, his head bowed, arms crossed. It took the hobbit a little while to figure out who it was.  
He couldn't remember Thorin having come into the room...  
Bilbo sat up slowly, gritting his teeth as his head swam. The only light present was a small candle on a cabinet by the door, but it seemed to fill the room, drawing back the shadows.  
Not the cold, though. That stayed where it was.  
Bilbo drew up his bed covers, further up his chest and shut his eyes, leaning heavily against his many cushions (wait, when had those gotten there--?). He nearly drifted back to sleep had Thorin not spoken then.

"Bilbo?"

The hobbit in question blinked his eyes open, finding Thorin's blue ones on him. The king dragged a tired hand down his face with a yawn.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Y-yeah." the hobbit replied with a shiver. "When did you--?"

"Get here?" Thorin finished the sentence for him, leaning back and straightening his back. "Dis. She found you in the treasury. She said you were sleep-walking."

Bilbo frowned. "…What? I- I don't--" that was confusing. Bilbo had never sleep-walked before, and he never had any recollections of it happening before. Thorin blinked at him.

"Do... do you remember anything happening yesterday night?"

Bilbo thought carefully, combing through his mind to find an answer. He scratched his chin. "Well… I had a dream. I was in the trea... oh."

oOo

Gandalf arrived to see him later that morning as Bilbo had his second breakfast, which Bombur himself had brought up. The dwarf had stayed with Bilbo for a little longer while he ate, giving him a little company and telling him about the contents in the hobbit's meal. Gandalf arrived just as Bombur was leaving.

"How is he?" the wizard asked the dwarf.

"He looks fine. Weak, a little tired. But fine." Bombur replied. Gandalf nodded.

"Thank you."

"Gandalf!" Bilbo said, straightening up as the wizard came in and smiling. Gandalf smiled back, inviting himself to sit by the hobbit's bedside.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Definitely better than yesterday. I think that my fever may leave soon enough." Bilbo added happily. Gandalf nodded.

"Are you going to tell me about your little walk to the treasury?"

At that Bilbo's smile fell. "I've never done sleep-walking. I don't know why it happened yesterday."

"Hmm, I thought as much." Gandalf said with a nod. "But tell me; Princess Dis told me this morning that you had been muttering about a stone. I believe she was referring to the Arkenstone."

"I... I was dreaming about finding it." Bilbo said after a moment. Gandalf's lips formed a thin line.

"What I thought." He said with a sigh. "Its influence still lingers. What I wonder is how it was able to affect you, of all the creatures it could have. Perhaps it could be because you are sick." 

"That's a reasonable anwser. And not to mention that I feel tired and weak."

"Exactly, my dear hobbit. I believe that your defenses against it have gotten weaker due to that fever of yours. Hopefully it will wear off soon."

"Yeah, hopefully…"


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes section goes faulty again™
> 
> i BlAMe mY HanDs--  
> I felt pretty bad for just giving you guys a shorter chapter, so I'm making up for it by writing an extra chapter today. A little bit of a time skip, switch in POVS-- wait, those should go in Chapter Warnings™--
> 
> Chapter Warnings: In this flight with _Eagle Airlines™_ we will be experiencing a time skip, switches in POVs and a certain dwarven princess who is determined to find out what a certain hobbit means to a certain king.  
> In other words, it's going to go pretty much well. Let's see how it goes, because your captain's hands are rather unpredictable.  
> We hope you enjoy the flight with us. Seat belts on, off we go--

Days passed.  
Not a day or two, but five in which poor Bilbo was confined in his little cot with the blankets pulled up high and a candle lit by his side at all times. Of course, he got visits. Ori was king to bring in new books for him to read, which they discussed as Dori took measurements of him to make him some new clothes over a cup or two (or three) of herbal tea.  
Bombur came every two hours or so to drop off the meals he required, with little snacks in between, for hobbits tend to burn calories faster than dwarrows do. Even if this hobbit in particular was in bed half-- no, more than half the time, if one thought about it. Not only that, but Bombur sat with him for a few minutes (sometimes longer) to exchange recipes and such.  


Oin was with him most of the time; the dwarf had to check on him every hour, and even then the hobbit was inside the infirmary area of Oin's wing (which was close to his quarters; Bilbo had been moved there a day or so after having waken up) so that the dwarf could check on him easily, listening through his little trumpet to hear what the hobbit said while he changed bandages or checked what injuries he had.  


He, however, barely saw Gandalf, if not at all, excepting for a few minutes during the second day before the wizard had disappeared once more.  


And as for the royal family, he saw them nearly every day. Kili and Fili came to tell him jokes and have animated conversations with him, during which Bilbo often told the funnier stories from the Shire, like how Lobelia Sackville-Baggins continuously tried to steal his mother's spoons, how Hamfast Gamgee had reacted when his wife finally gave birth to their son after months and months of waiting (Hamfast had left her for a few hours and that was when it happened) and the family reunions he had had with his familiars from both his Took and Baggins' sides, which almost always ended badly but still had their funny little parts in the beginning.  
The princess sometimes joined them for an hour or two, interested to hear about the hobbit and his life in the Shire. There was something in the princess' eye that sometimes unnerved Bilbo, though he could not tell what it was. However, she was always good to be around with and proved to be a kind and good mother to her two sons.  
As for Thorin, the hobbit sometimes saw him, like his sister, when he was with his nephews. Other times Bilbo woke up from a particularly bad night to find the dwarf either awake or asleep at his bedside. Bilbo couldn't tell why, but his mere presence was always soothing and Bilbo found it easy to fall back asleep. What always puzzled him was why he found the king there in the first place, but he couldn't answer that question either.  
The nightmares got better, but they were never quite gone, and it was as if the fever made them worse. The heat made him dream of the dragon. The cold of gold underneath his feet. And the memory of Thorin's mere face of Thorin himself.  
But not a normal Thorin. Not the one that Bilbo found by his bedside. He was the same Thorin who had nearly thrown Bilbo off the mountain, the same who had looked at him with cold, pitiless eyes during those moments.  
And then he dreamed of that day. But it happened differently.

oOo

_Bilbo blinked snow out of his eyes, the cold making him shiver even underneath the large, blue coat he was wearing over his vest and shirt. Well, it wasn't that surprising._

"Bilbo?"

_He turned around. It was Thorin. The dwarf looked fine in armor, walking towards him. Bilbo could hear the noises of the other dwarrows around them, further back up the passage. His keen eyes caught a shadow moving behind, but Bilbo decided it was just the trick of a candle's light flickering._

"Yes?" _he asked. Thorin opened his mouth to say something, but a shadow-- a great big shadow-- lifted up from behind him. Bilbo was about to alert him, but it was too late. Reptilian eyes looked at him flr a split second before the shadow pounced upon the king. Thorin didn't sag, he just kept walking. But Bilbo could see his eyes growing stranger, his armour lose its shine, the hair grow even darker than it had been already. Bilbo found he was rooted to the floor, looking on at the aproaching king fearfully with wode eyes. He knew something was going to happen, but he couldn't will his legs to move. Hands grasped his arms. Invisible ones, that was, pinning his arms to his sides, keeping him in place. Something snapped inside the hobbit. He began to flail uncontrollably, trying to break free. The hands were far too strong for him and now the king was standing before him. The wind suddenly picked up. Bilblo glanced behind him to see that they were out, somehow having made it onto the great wall they had made out of stone to block the entrance._

"Thief." _Thorin hissed in a voice unlike his olwn. The king reached into one of Bilbo's pockets, taking out the Arkenstone. The hands released him. He made it to try run, but now Thorin's arms were on his shoulders, roughly throwing him back, against the edge. Bilbo whimpered as the stone dug into his back. Cruel eyes dug into his.  
He knew he would die this time arolund. There was no one to save him, no one to care for--_

" _Bilbo!_ " Bilbo jolted awake, eyes snapping open. He reeled forward, wrenching himsef away from the hands that had been around his shoulders. His heart was beating madly. He scrambled out of bed, falling painfully onto the floor with a pained cry.

"Bilbo--" The hobbit couldn't think straight. He was on his rump, backing away, his back hitting a stone wall. He couldn't breathe, struggling to see the shape approaching him. It came closer and closer, and then suddenly a hand touched his shoulder.  
And he lashed out.  
He kicked as hard as he could, getting a pained gasp out of the person before him, scrabbling onto all fours and crawling away underneath a different bed. His heartbeat was slowing, but fear was sharp in his mind and he couldn't tell the false from the real. He shut his eyes tightly, curling into a tight ball.  
Sobs racked through him.

Then his cover was moved from above him and arms where suddenly wrapped about his frame, keeping him in place. He struggled against the hold, but it was too strong and he was too weak. Too sick. Still, he tried. With one last half-hearted attempt, he fell limp against it breathing with difficulty. Why was he so weak? So useless? Tears fell but he didn't bother to wipe them away (and not like he could, anyways, since his arms we mostly pinned to his sides.

"Calm down. You're fine, alright?" a voice murmured close to his ears, "You're safe." the voice was familiar. But too soft, too comforting. He knew it belonged to Thorin, but it couldn't be. Hadn't his voice been filled with venom moments before?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nOtES
> 
> (at this point I should just stick to the summary section instead of bothering with the notes, lmao--)  
> Apologies for a later-than-usual update, but, hey, this means it will definitely be longer than the last XD  
> I would also like to announce that I have began writing another fic (also about the Hobbit), but absolutely unrelated to this one. It is also multichapter, and it can be found in the same series as this one. All I'm going to say is that _Toucanfly Airliness_ has planned a very wild trip for all of you (check out the first batch of notes on the fic to understand XD) and that the fic is called "The Perfect Paradise"  
> Anyways.  
> Onto our dear chapter warnings--
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Another slight change in POVS ("Variety is good"), and, uh, (pls don't kill me buuuut) I'm afraid that mental scars are deeper than what cuts they actually look like...

Dis was confused, but she barely even showed it. Not confused in a bad way, though. Just confused. And what was the cause of her confusion? Her elder brother.  
She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes as they ate in the great hall that evening. Bofur had kept true to his word on the day that Bilbo had woken up on (and so had Thorin, it seemed) and a small but cheerful banket was planned and made in honor of their strange little friend. Dis herself was quietly pleased at this; this gave her more of a chance to observe her brother when the hobbit was around him.  
She had dressed formally (not extravagantly; she wasn't one of those dwarrowdams set on looking their best weighed down in senseless cloth materials or being the shiny ruby-- metaphorically speaking, of course-- of the party), wearing one of her dark, blue dresses with the furry folds and cuffs, along with iron-steeled boots, a few rings on her fingers and her crown. She had braided her hair more intrically and had cut down her short beard a little more to show the smooth lines of her face.  
She had looked at hersef in the mirror, content with what she saw. She had forced Kili into more formal clothes as well and gotten Fili to help her arrange her younger son's mess of a hair (there was a lot of protesting coming from its owner, but mission completed). Fili had been easier to handle; he had been a little reluctant about his clothes at first but eventually Dis was able to convince him to wear them.  
Overall, having children, Dis thought, was both rewarding and exhausting. Of course, not that she ever regretted it.

She and her sons had shown up at the banket together, her son's abandoning any respectable behavior as soon as they saw a certain hobbit having a conversation with a couple of other dwarrows. Dis noticed that he looked far better than ever, dressed handsomely in a dark gray vest over a shirt, with soft-looking brown shorts and his face no longer looking as pale as it had during the days he had stayed in bed. Dis was distracted from her observations as both her sons abandoned their postures and thundered towards the hobbit, who looked sideways just in time to see them barrel into him. Dis approached them with a smile on her face: those were her sons, after all.

"Fili, Kili, let the poor hobbit breathe a little." She said warmly, patting Kili on the shoulder. They immediately let go, leaving a shocked but amused Bilbo to stand there.  
Well, that had been a different hug from the first.

"Master Baggins, I hope that you are feeling better." Dis purred with a little bow.

"Oh, I'm much better. Thank you," the hobbit replied, bowing back. Dis nodded, and just then did her brother enter the hall.  
Dis smiled even wider internally.  
Time for a little observation.

oOo

Bilbo had never felt any happier before. He sat at a long table, laden with food, being able to talk with and see friends he hadn't been able to see for so long. They arrived in ones, twos and threes, all grinning widely when they saw the hobbit there. Those he hadn't seen yet (like Bifur) gave him tight hugs and told him how happy they were able to see him once mlre. Gloin had brought along his son, Gimly; young and bright for his age (well, actually, no; all youngsters should be happy and bright if they could, Bilbo supposed). Bilbo had seen him in one of Gloin's visits to the infirmary, but it had only lasted a few minutes.

And so they all settled down to eat.

oOo

It was just lucky that Bilbo had sat to the right of Thorin, a seat away next to Balin. Dis was on Thorin's left, her sons making the space between the siblings.  
She liked it better like this. That way, she could keep an eye on both hobbit and king.  
As the meal proceeded (the dwarrows were ecstatic to be able to see Bilbo and laughed, cheered and sang all throughout the banket), Dis found some very interesting things.  
The first was that Thorin's eyes seemed to be on Bilbo half the time. Dis knew the look in her brother's eyes because she had seen it in Kili's when he confided in her to tell her about an elf he apparently loved; and of course she had seen it countless of other times.  
Love sickness.  
 _Well,_ Dis thought as Thorin laughed heartedly at something that the hobbit had said, watching over the brim of her glas, _isn't this interestimg._

Next she found that her brother seemed to be smiling more than usual. I'm not even going to bother saying whom they were directed to because I'm sure you already know who.

The great breakthrough and the confirmation to her suspicions arrived nearing the end of the banket. Bilbo and Thorin had been discussing something (Balin between them was scolding Dwalin for something). She had looked away for a moment only to look back and see that Thorin and Bilbo were most ceintarnly looking at one another differently. A smile-- well, a grin-- spread over Dis' lips before she was able to hold it back and her brother was quick to spot it before she was able to erase it.  
So did Bilbo, apparently. Dis internally smirked at the indentical flushes on their skin, not failing to spot a red hint to the tips of Bilbo's ears.

oOo

The banket ended well in smiles and laughter (and five or six drunken dwarrows). Bilbo didn't feel sick (excepting for a small stinging pain in his head) and was happily walking back to the infirmary after Oin, who was bussy polishing his hearing trumpet as they walked (someone--Kili-- had accidentally splattered it in stew; Oin hadn't been angry since the mood was so uplifting).  
Bilbo entered the infirmiary as Oin bid him good night, which the hobbit returned even if the healer probably didn't hear it. He changed into his bed clothes, leaving the vest, shirt and shorts drapped over a chair at the other end of his bed, and climbed under his covers, burrowing underneath them and curling up.  
Suddenly the banket had brought back memories.

They were memories from long ago of times that Bilbo hadn't forgotten but tried to avoid thinking about. They were jappy memories... but thinking of them hurt.  
The hobbit would usually just gently push them away and get to sleep, but something was keeping from doing that that night. The laughter he had heard at the banket brought back a memory of a mid-summer eve's party his parents had held in Bad End. He was just a little fauntling by then, but he rememberd bits and parts of it. The lights, the laughter and singing of bar songs, faces of other hobbits around them...  
But mostly his parents' faces.  
This memory led to a chain reaction. The little but sturdy wall his mind had put between him and those memories cracked and eventually broke, letting them rush out.  
Too many.  
All at once.  
And they all leaded to one, last memory.

He wanted to kick it away, hide, rip it to shreds-- but how could he? They were memories, echoes of the past, things he had kept locked away.  
He couldn't get rid of them no matter how much he wanted to.  
Funerary music.  
Flowers in his hands.  
The headstones--

oOo  
(oncoming heavy angst)

_Ten, maybe fifteen, years ago. Bilbo stood in the best clothes he had managed to scavenge out of his wardrobe, holding in both his hands a bunch of flowers of mixed types. He didn't want to let go of them. He didn't want to show how much his hands trembled, even if there were no other hobbits around him.  
They had all left him standing alone there hours ago, but he still hadn't been brave enough to let go of the flowers and place them down at his parents' graves like the majority of his familiars had.  
He just couldn't.  
He felt strange. He couldn't find it in him to cry or tear up like Drogo and Primula had. He didn't feel tired after having stood there for hours on end past the duration of the funeral.  
In fact...  
In fact, he couldn't feel a thing._

_Thunder rolled above him, the skies grumbling. Soon rain water was falling all around him. He looked down at the flowers in his hands as the water drenched his clothes, coldness settling into his bones.  
If he didn't leave, he would be catching a cold for sure.  
Bilbo bowed his head. He was about to bend down and place the flowers between the graves, but suddenly a wild and cruel wind tore through, ripping the flowers from his hands. He watched as they were blown away, ripping free of the string binding them and filling the air with colors. Sadness filled him. Fear. Shame.  
He couldn't even say a propper goodbye to his poor parents.  
Tears stinging at his eyes, he pressed his knuckles to his lips, squeezing his eyes shut._

_In some other fantasy, he would have been comforted by the ghosts of his parents, told that everything would be fine and that there was nothing to worry about. That they would be with him at all times and that he didn't have to hear them say it to know that._

_In this reality he sank to the muddy ground, surrounded by the approaching darkness of the night, alone in the rain with nothing to keep him company but the tears rolling down his face and the sadness in his heart._


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tHE nOTes
> 
> Apologies for a ridiculously late update, but my godamn computer decided it wanted to re-start exactcly while I was on the LAST LINES of the chapter and I lost all the work.  
> Gee thanks -.-
> 
> Chapter warnings: It's going to be a little shorter than usual TMT (and a change of POV)

"How did it go?" Thorin asked as Gandalf swept into the throne room, uninvited.

"Like usual. The gold's resistance is weakening; a few more months and it shall be gone." Gandalf replied, turning to examine a large tapestry on the wall. Thorin nodded with a satisfied hum, resuming his pacing from before. Gandalf watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"There's something on my mind." The king said, slowing down to a stop. He walked to stand next to Gandalf, looking up at the tapestry.

"I guessed so."

Thorin decided that there was no point in hiding it from the wizard. "I've been keeping an eye on Bilbo since the day he sleep-walked into the treasury. I noticed he has changed."

Gandalf chuckled. "Of course he has changed. He is no longer the same hobbit you met back at The Shire. He has grown. He has left behind the innocence of being clueless about the rest of the world, like the vast majority of the hobbits living back there."

"That I know." Thorin agreed. "But what I reffer to is that ever since he arrived at the mountain, he has been having... nightly episodes. Not just the sleep-walking incident. Two nights ago. He had a nightmare of some kind. I tried to comfort him but he lashed out, as if his mind had lost all sense of reality. He kept muttering and whimpering in his sleep seconds before he woke."

"You have been watching him sleep?"

"Not like that." Thorin said with a shake of his head. He returned to his pacing. "I just feel concerned for him. As a friend."

The wizard hummed. "I have also noticed that in him. I passed him on the way back from the treasury, up on the walkways. He was with your nephews and the scribe... yes, Ori. But he was looking down at the gold with a strange look in his eyes."

"As if... did it look haunted to you?" Thorin stopped walking, looking back at the wizard.

"No. There was fear."

Thorin nodded, resuming his pacing. "And what did you do with the Arkenstone?"

"I was unable to destroy it, as I've said before. Yet. At least, not without wiping out Middle Earth. That stone is filled with dark magic strong enough to snuff out Gondor if I did it wrong. Hmmm... a dark heart would fit as name..."

"And what did you do with it?"

"I hid it."

"In the mountain?"

"By my beard, of course not! Sooner or later, someone would stumble upon it." Gandalf said with a shake of his head. Thorin sighed with relief.

"Good to know."

"Yes. But Thorin. I believe that the stone's influence still remains on the gold and in the mountain itself, if not in a very small quantity." Gandalf walked to the door, turning around to look at Thorin. "Keep a close eye on Bilbo. He was the least affected by the stone _before_ , but that fever has left him weak. The Arkenstone might be trying to use him to get to you or your nephews."

oOo

Dis stood over the walkway at the forges, watching the many dwarrows work below her with her arms leaning on the rail.

"Dis? I have a favor to ask of you." Thorin said, approaching her.

"Oh?"

Thorin steeled himself for what was to come. "I know you've always been the more observant of the two of us." he started. Dis smirked, tilting her head a little at him.

"That I know." she purred. Thorin rolled his eyes with a little huff. He paused, listening to the hammering on metal, the roaring of the fires and the shouting and singing of dwarrows as they worked.

"Well? About that favor?" Dis prodded.

"I need you to keep an eye on Bilbo." Thorin replied. His sister arched her brows at him, an amused flicker in her eyes.

"Sure. Do you need me to find what his favorite types of flowers are? What gems he likes? If he likes rings over necklaces? By the way, I think that he would preffer a necklace." she added.

"Dis." Thorin said, a warning in his voice. A blush was working its way up to his cheeks.

"Or maybe you could ask him your--"

" _Dis._ "

His sister chuckled, nudging his side playfully. "I was only pulling on your beard, brother. Why do you need me to observe him?" she asked, barely managing to hold back _other than for romantic purposes_.

"Gandalf thinks that the Arkenstone's influence might be affecting him as well."

That made his siter frown at him. "I thought he could suppress its pull?"

"Yes. But Gandalf said that his fever weakened him, making it easy for the stone's influence to affect him. It might be trying to use it to get to me or your sons." Thorin explained. Dis remained quiet for a few moments, turning back to look at the forges.

"I'll be sure to watch him. Do you want me to alert the boys as well?" she asked. Thorin meditated the idea. It would definitely help with their case.

"Yes. I'll ask Oin as well; I don't think he kows much about the Arkenstone's pull, but his quarters are right next to the infirmary."  
A pause.

"Do you plan on moving the hobbit out of there? I doubt he will want to stay there for any longer. It smells of... I don't know, but it reminds me of those disgusting medicines that Father gave us when we got a cold or something."

Thorin made a face at that. "True. I'll figure it out."

"I think there's an empty room near Kili's. It has a small skylight, so I think he would like it there." Dis said. Thorin nodded.

"We'll move him there, then." 

They both remained in a silence, looking down at the forges.

"…are the forges. This is where all the weapons and everything else that is made from metal is forged. Mother loves coming her when she's-- Oh, hello, Mother!" Dis turned her head, smiling as her youngest son approached her, tapping his forehead with hers. Fili, Ori and Bilbo were not far behind. Fili repeated his brother's greeting. Thorin turned to the other two.

"Ori," he said with a little nod. "Bilbo. How do you feel?"

"A lot better, thank you." the hobbit said with a small smile that sent Thorin's stomach tumbling. He then remembered what Gandalf had said after passing the hobbit on his way to the throne room; but nothing seemed off.

"Dis and I were just discussing about moving you out of the infirmary and up to a propper room." he said. "There's one next to Kili's, with a skylight. Would you be fine there?"

"That would be nice," the hobbit said. Thorin suddenly realized that he hadn't been keeping watch over Bilbo the previous night and instantly felt guilty, hoping that the hobbit hadn't had another rough night.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ze Notes
> 
> Happy new year, y'all!  
> First of all, apologies for a later (and shorter) chapter today, but things will be happening and by the time the chapter uploads I will probably be dead-asleep in bed XD  
> Second, I don't know if you have heard about "The Conjuring" (a thriller based on a true story, more or less), but this fic is about to take a turn due to that movie. It's really good, especially if you like a good scare. However, I suggest that you ignore the age ratings (not accurate) and base it off on your level of maturity and your personality itself. It's pretty scary but I was able to handle it better than well (even if it says '16+' on Netflix, but they overrate things).  
> So, the story is pretty much going to follow the same line as before, only that I am going to make a few changes.  
> Wanna know? Just bare with me and let's hope it goes well ^^
> 
> P.S: if you're planning on watching "The Conjuring", make sure you are sure you won't regret it. I myself think it was a really good movie.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Shorter chapter TMT

Bilbo was moved from the infirmary not long after Dis and Thorin had had their conversation. Oin deemed that he was well enough to get discharged, if not left with a little heat in his forehead. Bilbo brushed it off; it would disappear soon enough.  
Thorin moved him up to the vacant room next to Kili's. Bilbo was happy to have the skylight above his head as a source of sunlight and a much more bigger and comfortable-looking baed to sleep in. They also got him a smaller desk equiped with parchment and a couple of quills, a soft rug and a small wardrobe for his clothes.  
He was happy to have all these things, at last feeling like he was in a homely space.  
Thorin was glad because it would be easier to keep an eye on the hobbit (and not to mention that it was much better than the infirmary).  
Dis was pleased because she would be able to observe them more, and not to mention helping his brother to keep an eye on the hobbit.  
Kili and Fili were neither pleased nor happy.  
Both were ecstatic.

They soon entered a routine of barging into the hobbit's room (late in the morning) to wake him up. Bilbo would then have his breakfast with Dis and the princes, and then the latter two would take him around the mountain. Bilbo was happy to be able to get to see things other than just his room and the infirmary walls; Erebor had changed since the last time he had been in it.  
The main halls bustled with dwarrows going back and forth, the forges were almost always active and a marketing zone had been set along further into the mountain. This was one of the places Fili and Kili took the hobbit to see; the mountain's walls were lined with stalls (some were even dug into the stone) and set in a way that reminded Bilbo of hobnit market places. There were different sections for different categories; foods, textiles (clothes, for an example), jewelry shops...

Another place they visited was Erebor's Hall of Books. Or, as Bilbo called it, the library. There they almost always found Ori (ocasionally Nori as well), who was always surrounded by piles upon piles of books. Bilbo had been very excited when he saw the high shelves lined with books; the two princes had watched him as he had hurried along, running his hands along the spines of the many volumes and squealing like a child on Christmas day.  
They coouldn't understand why it excited him that much, but they were happy to see him like that.

oOo

For a while, things seemed to be going better.

Alas. They were wrong.

And it all started with a simple silver goblet.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nutus
> 
> (I spelled notes wrong on purpose-- :D)  
> First of all, I would like to say that this chapter was written listening to "In The Room Where You Sleep" by Dead Man's Bones (it's a strange band name, isn't it?), simply because of the mood of the song. I do suggest it if you like catchy songs without enormous amounts of singing.  
> Other than that, enjoy today's chapter!
> 
> Chapter Warnings: This is when things start to take a turn. Get ready, y'all. Other than that… goldsickness.

Bilbo woke up in his new bed to find himself in his new bedroom. The light he woke to see was not a candle light, but the skylight directly above his head. The hobbit laid on the bed like a lizard sunbasking in sunlight, shutting his eyes and exhaling happily.  
He had been sleeping in there for the past week, and so far he had found it to be much better than sleeping in the infirmary. If he had to wake from a nightmare and walk around a little, all he had to do was open his bedroom door to access the little lounge. There was always a roaring fireplace (winter was growing colder and colder as the days passed) and several comfortable armchairs to st at, along with a small, stone table at the center (that Bilbo sometimes used as footrest). The lounge was nicely decorated, with a couple of tapestries on the stone walls, a large carpet and a bookshelf, along with several family portraits. Bilbo liked to look at these when he needed to see another face but everyone else was fast asleep.

All in all, the hobbit was benefiting nicely from his new rooms and life. He soon put on a little more weight (the wonders a good meal could do, Mahal!) and was feeling far happier than he had in days. He would have breakfast with Dis and the two princes-- occasionally being joined by Thorin-- and talk about whatever they wanted to talk about. Bilbo grew more comfortable around Dis; he had learned that the dwarrowdam meant no harm to him and wanted the hobbit to feel welcome as much as her own brother.  
Fili and Kili were always happy to take Bilbo with them; Fili had his own duties as the successor to the crown, which meant that Bilbo spent more time with Kili. The younger brother practically showed him most of the mountain: as prince and nephew of the king, he had his advantages.  
Bilbo was able to go out into the fresh air because of this. There was a large balcony dug into the mountain, set as an outpost for soldiers to watch the lands from. There were at least six, all around the mountain. Of course, one had to be authorized to access these. Kili wasn't sure if they were allowed up there (he didn't tell the hobbit until after they had done it), but the guards allowed him to show the hobbit out so long as they were being safely watched.  
Bilbo had liked being in the mountain, but it was ture that he had missed the fresh air outside its walls. He breathed it in, hands upon the stone barrier as he leaned out to look down.

"Careful," Kili said amusedly, putting a hand on his friend's back, just in case. "A fall from up here would be rather painful."

"I'll keep it in mind," Bilbo laughed. A strong breeze blowed past, and, man, had he missed it!

All seemed to be going just right. Thorin and Gandalf had had a wordless agreement that perhaps nothing was wrong with the hobbit; Gandalf still adviced the king to keep an eye on Bilbo, should anything happen or go awry.  
It would be useless to say that it didn't. Because, alas, good things can't last.

oOo

Thorin was woken up roughly from sleep. He almost snapped awake instantly, finding out that it was Dis shaking him.

"Mmm?" he turned, snuggling deeper into his blankets.

"It's the hobbit." Dis anwsered. That made Thorin sit up suddenly, throwing his covers off him as he got out of bed.

"What happened?"

"You tell me. Come." Dis said. Her voice sounded confused, but if Thorin was right, there was a small hint of fear inside it. It just made him feel worse than he already did. He pulled on a coat over his nightclothes, grabbing a dagger from one of his cabinets and holding it tightly in his hand.  
War reflexes, he could say.  
Dis led him to the hobbit's door. She stood before it.

"Wha--"

"Just listen." she whispered. They did. A soft thunk sounded, coming from the other side of the door. The dwarrows exchanged looks. They waited and nearly a second later, there was another thunk. Thorin stretched out his free arm, twisting the door knob open. He raised the dagger--

Bilbo.

The hobbit was sleep-walking again. He lowered his raised arm but frowned as Bilbo suddenly took a shaky step forward, wobbling. Then another. And another.  
Soon they were watching him walk to the door that led out into the corridors, shaky step by shaky step. 

"Should we wake him?" Dis whispered.

"No. We can't wake him up while he's sleeping. As far as I know, you're supposed to lead them back to their bed. Gently." Thorin said. He walked forward just as the hobbit bumped into the door. He stood stock still, and then thumped his head against it.

"I… I don't know if this is a good idea, but I think we should see what he's trying to do. I have a weird feeling about this." Dis whispered. A silence.

"Alright. Come on." Thorin walked forward, closing the distance between he and Bilbo and opening the door for him. The hobbit continued to walk forward, the two dwarrows following after.

**[Jesus, I'm not gonna lie, but I'm also getting nervous as I write this--]**

Bilbo led them down corridors. It was a slow progress that needed a lot of patience as the hobbit advanced slowly, with almost unsure steps as he went. At one point he stopped in the center of a hallway, four or five turns away from the Royal wing. Thorin and Dis waited with their breath stuck in their lungs. There was a ripping noise and suddenly a tapestry fell between the dwarrows and Bilbo. Dis scoffed.

"I _knew_ there was something wrong with it." she murmured. "I'll as someone to put it back up tomorrow."  
Bilbo stayed still for several more seconds before taking another step forward, returning to motion once more. Thorin and Dis followed after, careful to not step on the tapestry. The more they advanced, the more Thorin's dread grew.  
That's when he noticed that Bilbo was holding something in his right hand.  
A silver goblet.

"Dis." he muttered. "Where did he get the goblet from?"

"He had it with him when he left his bedroom." Dis anwsered. Then Bilbo turned around, towards a staircase. "Oh. You think he's…?"

"I think so, but I hope not."

The followed Bilbo for a few minutes longer until they reached the dreaded spot.  
The treasury.  
Thorin felt the goldsickness grow a little stronger, but the concern for his friend outsized it greatly. He practically casted it away as they watched Bilbo amble into the gold filled halls, stop in front of a pile and gently place the goblet down upon it.  
When he turned around, Thorin thought that the hobbit had at last woken up, but Bilbo's eyes were shut.  
They followed Bilbo back upstairs to the Royal wing. And then the hobbit climbed into his bed and didn't wake until the next morning.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NoTeS
> 
> Good evening, y'all!  
> Before we begin today's chapter, I have to make an announcement I forgot to do yesterday (because sometimes my brain forgets):  
> The first thing is that updates will come in slower because I start school tomorrow. Unlike in 'The Perfect Paradise' (the other fic I'm also working on with much longer chapters), you can expect an update at least two to three days a week (or more if I manage to scrounge some time up).  
> I'll let you guys know when those days will be once I get everything figured out.  
> Second is, as I have mentioned before, the story has taken a turn. Only that it was unexpected even for me when I updated yesterday because I was planning to have it be a little mystery but it ended up going in a more horror/thriller way... I blame my hands.  
> Last (but not least): 61 kudos?! You guys spoil me! And not to mention all the comments I've gotten so far; thank you all for sticking with me!
> 
> Chapter Warnings: mentions of self-harm

"Gandalf, I have something important to tell you about." 

The wizard turned around in his stool to see the King Under The Mountain standong behind him. Thorin took a seat next to the wizard. They were in Dale, in a small pub. Thorin had only just managed to find Gandalf, knowing that time was running and that sooner or later the wizard would have left. He had nearly given up and returned to the mountain when he spotted a pointed hat through the window of a pub.  
Gandalf arched his eyebrows at him just as the bartender served him a mug filled with some drink.  
Ale, maybe. Thorin was a little surprised; he had never really seen the wizard drink.

"Go on." Gandalf replied. "Why have you come seeking me? At dawn?"

"I knew you were going to leave. It couldn't wait. It's about Bilbo." Thorin replied. The wizard took his time to answer, taking a sip of his drink.

"I see. Has his fever gotten worse?" Gandalf inquired after a few moments.

Throin grimaced. "It's worse than that." And he recounted what he and Dis had witnessed the previous night.

oOo

Bilbo was feeling worse than he had the previous day. He had felt his forehead to find that his fever had gone higher once more. What was more, he had woken up halfway through the night due to another nightmare and hadn't been able to go back to sleep after that for what had seemed like an eternity to him. Then he had woken up once more, this time by the sun itself. Still, he hadn't found it him to get out of bed just yet, instead choosing to lay in bed for a little longer to see if the headache would pass.  
Thanks to his luck, it didn't.  
He eventually gave in, climbing out of bed. His hands touched something cold lying in his covers; he took it out to find it was a small, golden coin. Must have slipped from his pockets the previous day, then. He put it on his bedside table and stood up, deciding that he needed to have a walk, maybe a little fresh air.  
He changed into a long-sleeved shirt and his brown shorts, giving his hair a little comb.  
The hobbit opened the door to find that there were others in the lounge. At the sound of the door opening, several different heads turned to him.  
Thorin, Dis, the boys, Oin and--

"Gandaf?" Bilbo asked, confused. "I thought you said you were leaving today at dawn…?"

"I decided to stay for a little longer. The roads are not very good to travel by these days; the weather is getting worse as winter arrives and Thorin had the good heart to invite me to stay during it." the wizard replied pleasantly. Bilbo smiled; he hadn't really wanted Gandalf to leave just yet.

"I'm glad he did. Did I, uh, did I miss breakfast?"

"Not at all. Bombur brought it up for you a while ago," Dis said, gesturing to a platter on the small table. 

"Ah, good! I'm starving," Bilbo commented, moving to join them. That's when Thorin stood up.

"Before you eat," he said, "Oin wanted to check on you to see how you are doing."

Bilbo blinked, missing the small shift in the king's eyes. "Uh, well, sure. Just-- will it take very long?"

"Just a few minutes, I suppose."

"Alright."

oOo

Thorin felt a little guilty at having to deprive Bilbo from breakfast at the moment, but there were pressing matters to attend to.  
What had happened the previous night was only known to Gandalf, Oin, Thorin and Dis. Thorn had wanted for Oin to do a checkup on Bilbo and had decided that the healer needed to know about Bilbo's nightly episode to propery understand something. The dwarf had agreed.  
They had waited for Bilbo to wake for about half an hour while they had their own brekfast.

"Come, Kili and Fili." Dis said, getting to her feet. "Dwalin let me know yesterday that he wanted to see how both of your training is going."  
She easily got her sons to leave the room, giving Thorin a little nod of encouragement before leaving the Royal quarters, leaving Oin, Bilbo, Thorin and Gandalf on their own.

"How have you been feeling?" Oin asked the hobbit as he checked his forehead.

"Fine until today. I believe that my fever returned a bit," Bilbo explained. "I also have a bit of a headache, but it's not terrible."

Oin hummed. "Can I check your arms and chest? I must also make sure that you are breathing fine and that the little wound on your side has finally closed."

Thorin saw the hesitation in the hobbit's eyes flash for a moment but Bilbo relented, unbottoning his shirt. Thorin wanted to chuckle: dwarrows were not very shy when it comes to undressing. What had happened at Rivendell concerning the Company using a fountain as a bath house was enough proof of that. He still remembered how traumatized Bilbo had been when he had stumbled upon tem; of course, his nephews along with Bofur and Nori, had managed to somehow get him into the water fully dressed (they had pushed him in, but Thorin didn't really know that).  
He was pulled out from his thoughts as Bilbo pulled off the shirt, leaving it on the couch by his side.  
_His skin looks so smooth,_ Thorin thought with a little surprise. It lacked any hair as abundant as a dwarf's--  
But then there were the bruises.

Oin lifted Bilbo's arms straight, standing back to look at the many bruises dotting his skin. Thorin counted at least four or five on his front.

"When did you get these?" Oin asked him. Bilbo looked down at his chest, as if he had gotten used to seeing them already.

"I'm not really sure, to tell the truth." he shrugged. "I think I got them in that fall during my sleep-walk, if you remember."

"I see. And the same applies to the ones on your back?"

"How many in total, Oin?" Thorin cut across.

"Six in the front, three on the back. Oh, and one on his shoulder." Oin replied.

"Oh, I got that one a couple of days ago. It was dark, so I accidentally crashed into my door's frame on my way in." Bilbo supplied. Thorin's eyes moved to the dark blue and purple mark on the hobbit's shoulder, suppressing a wince from escaping him.

"Well, you need to be more careful, lad." Oin said. "Are there anymore on your legs?"

"One or two, but that's about it." 

"Oin, I think that you can spare checking his legs as well." Thorin said, noting the uncomfortable look on the hobbit's face. Oin nodded in acknowledgment. He instead rummaged in his leather sack and rook out a small bag.

"Chamomile tea," he explained, holding out the bag. "It will help with headaches and any other head-related pains you might experience."

"Thank you."

"Get some food in you. Thorin, Gandalf." 

"Yes. We can talk in my quarters as to not disturb Bilbo." Thorin said, getting to his feet as Bilbo pulled his shirt back on. He itched to touch each bruise, do something to make it disappear from the hobbit's skin. He nodded to said hobbit and led the way to his door with Oin and Gandalf behind him.

He shut the door as Bilbo began to eat.

"Well?" Gandalf asked Oin.

"He seems to be fine, appart from his fever and those bruises. But, to tell the truth, I'm unconvinced about how he got them."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked with a frown.

"A single fall couldn't have caused them. They looked more like the type of bruises one gets after being hit or struck with something."

"Are you saying that he has been attacked? In the mountain?" Thorin questioned, a little angered at the thought.

"Great grief, of course not." Oin said. "All I'm saying is tha he could have gotten them in another way. I don't know how."

"Gandalf?"

"I am afraid that I find myself in Oin's position. I do not know for sure, but..." he trailed off.

"But?"

"Gandalf. You don't think…?" Oin said, eyes widening.

"It could be possible."

"What do you mean?" Thorin inquired. He caught on before Gandalf answered.

"Self harm."

oOo

Bilbo hungrily ate his breakfast. It was as if a small black hole had appeared in his stomach all of a sudden. He wolfed down his meal, his keen ears catching bits of what the others were saying inside the room but not really listening anyways.  
His mind was more concentrated on the spoon he had in his hand. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Turns out that I’m a lot busier than I thought I would be and posts are going to be irregular, meaning that they won't come on exact days in the week. What's more, the minimun might end up being one--  
> I know, I know! But things didn't go exactly as planned and school has taken up quite a bit of time from literally every day and we have midterm exams this week AND next week--  
> I'm really sorry, you all :c  
> I do have good news and that is that I've got one full artwork and two-- no, three pieces of concept sketches!  
> Hope you enjoy today's chapter and that I'm able to update soon!
> 
> Chapter Warnings:

Thorin had been up for most part of the night fixing a couple of problems concerning trade with the Iron Hills. Apparently two caravans had fallen prey to smugglers and had arrived at Erebor with less than half of what they had been carrying.  
Thorin had spent most of the evening and a good part of the night interrogating and talking with the dwarrows that had come back with the caravan, meeting with Bard to make sure that it hadn't been one of his men that had attacked the caravans and so on. By the time the king was able to get back to his chambers, he felt exhausted and all he wanted to do was collapse in his bed and go to slee, to not wake up until the evening of the following day.  
 _Actually, I can just ask Fili to do it. That will give him a little practize..._  
He knew it wasn't going to be possible, but let his mind mumble on about this as he pushed the doors to his chambers open, gaze softening when his eyes met sight of his bed. Ah, how much had he missed it!  
Thorin closed the door silently and then rid himself of what armour he had been wearing before collapsing onto his sheets fully dressed, not bothering to change into a night gown or something of the sort. He nearly fell asleep, but something was keeping him awake.   
He couldn't tell what it was until he heard it.  
A soft thunk, not one he hadn't heard before.  
 _Bilbo._  
He tiredly got out of bed, but his mind was slowly going back to working normally, lighting a candle and walking to the door. He paused at the doorframe and listeed carefully, hoping that the sound had been imagined.  
But it wasn't.

He sighed and crossed the little lounge, stopping only to throw another log into the fire, before slowing to a stop in front of Bilbo's door. Another thunk, this time louder since he was standing directly in front of it. He stayed like that, in front of the door, for a few seconds, putting his ear to the door. He could hear Bilbo's soft breath on the other side. Another thunk.  
The king opened the door carefully, pushing it open to look at the hobbit on the other side.   
Bilbo was asleep. Sleepwalking. His lips moved, mouthing words he couldn't hear and very much less understand. His copper brown curls were tousled and messy... and his skin was frighteningly pale, a little wound on his forehead for having been tapping his head against the door for Mahal only knew how long. A thin trail of blood leaked from int, tracing a line down the center of his nose.  
Thorin remembered that sleepwalkers shouldn't be woken up; they had to be gently led back to bed. His thoughts were interrumpted, however, when the hobbit simply slipped past him. By the time Thorin turned around, the hobbit was already halfway to the door.   
He noticed that he was also holding something in his hands.  
Thorin thought it would be best to follow him, try to stop him and get him back to his room.

He followed Bilbo to the door, meaning to try lead him back. Last time he had had to open it for him.  
This time Bilbo opened it himself.   
Thorin stared as the door swung open and Bilbo slowly walked out into the corridor. The guards posted on both sides of the door stared, and Thorin motioned for them to follow him.   
Bilbo was walking faster than last time.  
He was not as wobbly or slow as the night before.  
Thorin's worry grew as they followed the hobbit to what seemed to be down the path that led straight to the treasury.  
There was a loud ripping noise.  
"Watch out!" 

Thorin found himself being pushed out of the way by one of his guards as the trapestry hanging on the wall suddenly fell, the metal pole it was attached to falling after it with a loud noise and a impact that would have cracked Thorin's head open if the guard had not pushed him out of the way on time. 

"I thought Dis got it back up this morning?" Thorin said, a little shakily.

"She did, Your Majesty." the soldier who had saved him said, confusion clear in his voice. "Master Baggins... where is he?"  
Thorin turned.  
Bilbo was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup.  
> Shorter chapter.  
> *siggghhhh*  
> Hopefully I'll have more time to post another this weekend.   
> Once again, I'm awfully sorry for having made you guys wait this long UMU  
> Until then!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. First of all, I think you all deserve an apology.  
> It's been little more than a month since my last update, and when I found out, I was shocked. Like, how the hell did time pass by so quickly???  
> I've been having exams for the past three weeks and I had to adjust to my first week of school, so, in truth, I didn't have much time to write anything. But we finished exams only a couple of days ago, so you guys can expect more updates soon!  
> Another announcement is about one of my other works, "The Perfect Paradise". I'm afraid that my muse left me hanging there, so updates might be paused for a while until this work finishes. That does not mean I'll be dropping it off completely, so let's hope my muse decides to walk back to that that story.  
> Now, here is the long-awaited chapter! Things are bound to get... worse as it goes. Let's all hope that the hobbit and the dwarves manage to make it through this! 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: a shorter chapter; the next will be longer, promise!

Coins sang underneath his feet as he struggled to keep upright. He searched the stone with his fingers, looking for purchase. Finding it, he pulled himself up with difficulty, grunting as he dragged himself onto the mostly flat surface of an old fragment of what could have been a column, the aged stone half-buried under the gold and crumbling underneath his fingers. He sat down, wiping away beads of sweat from the skin on his forehead, shoulders sagging with each pant and breath he heaved in and out.  
Bruises bloomed like dark, shapeless flowers over his skin, dotting his bare arms and legs. He lifted his shirt up, tracing the outline of a new bruise with his eyes.  
He did not remember how he had gotten any of them, but he knew that more than half had not been there before he had started the climb.

He pulled out his latest catch, a small, silver teaspoon, grateful that it had not fallen from his shorts' pocket during the time he had been traveling the great expanses of gold. He slipped it back inside, patting the small bulge it made under the fabric of his shorts. He then sat still, looking ahead.  
Seas and piles of gold, with colossal columns rising from underneath it like towers.  
He directed his gaze to the stone underneath him, landing on a small, golden goblet lying a little way ahead of him. He stretched out his arm, taking the small treasure in his bruised, left hand. He turned it in his hands, inspecting the studded jewels on the smooth surface with something akin to wonder and awe.  
And love. Love too.  
Suddenly, the love turned to hate. He suddenly felt furious at the innocent-looking goblet. It was part of the treasure, the seas of gold, that was making his journey harder than it already was. He flung it away with a chocked sob, fury, anger and indignance bubbling up inside his frail and tired body. He took a handful of gold just ahead of him and flung it away as well, this time snarling. The silence mocked him, the gold mocked him, even the very air he breathed mocked him.

He bent over, his hands curling around strands of his hair, pulling and pulling until it hurt so much that tears sprang to his eyes.

" _Stop it!_ " he snarled all of a sudden, snapping upright. He sat like that, one leg bent toward him, the other stretched out before him, his breath ragged and harsh. He looked down at his hands, which held strands of his hair. He let them fall away, disgust curling up in him.

"Pathetic." he whispered, getting to his feet. " _Pathetic._ "  
And he was. Every bit of him was pathetic. Weak. Not worthy.  
The hobbit trembled, shaking his hands out, clenching and unclenching his fists and rolling his shoulders back. His eyes lifted up, looking out at the gold his feet would be traveling over.   
He straightened out his shirt, brushed strands of hair from his eyes.   
Then he moved, walking forward, hands fisted at his sides, preppared for the walk ahead of him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling nice today, so guess what, another update! Thank JuniAsat for that because their comments on the previous chapter made my Muse go NYOMMMM--  
> In other words, enjoy this chapter. Hopefully it's longer than the last, but I'm not sure.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Hmmm. Nothing to add here.... yet.

Worry and fear welled up inside Thorin. It was not bad.  
It was a terrible feeling that made him want to squash whatever butterflies had decided to take up residency in his stomach right then and there. His hands shook as he passed them through his beard, eyes darting around as he tried to find any clue to Bilbo's sudden disappearance. He could not have just... _vanished_ into thin air. He moved his gaze onto the tapestry, holding back the urge to run down the mountain's many passageways shouting for Bilbo.  
He had to use his head. He had to think first.  
He leveled his breath, turning to the two guards, both of whom were examining the fallen tapestry.

"You," he told the guard who had pushed him out of the way, "go get a patrol. Scout the area and alert me inmediately if you come across Master Baggins. And you," he turned to the other guard as the other gave him a salute and ran back up the way they had come, "we will check this tapestry first. Then we need to go to the Treasury." 

"Your Majesty is not meant to--"

"I am one hundred percent sure," Thorin interrupted in a stony voice, "that the hobbit was headed there." With that, he turned back to the tapestry, bending down and lifting it in his hands to examine the rupture, the fabric dusty and heavy in his grasp.  
He frowned, anger boiling inside him upon seeing it.  
This was no accident.  
The tapestry had been meant to fall. Someone had made clean, jagging cuts along the top, leaving barely any threads of it attached to the pole. No wonder it had fallen.  
And not to mention that the tapestry was a map of the royal family. Thorin looked at his own stitched face, not shocked at all to see the crossing lines over it.  
The tapestry's fall could have been meant for him.  
What he did not know, however, was if the tapestry's fall had been meant for him...

"Or Bilbo." he whispered. He got to his feet in a flash. Someone was trying to kill either of them.  
Bilbo... Bilbo was not safe at all.

oOo

"You've gone mad," Dis murmured as they looked out at the great expanses of gold. "You _cannot_ go in there, Thorin!"

He knew what she meant, what she was getting to, but the King Under the Mountain would not be stoped so easily. The gold pulled at him, yes, but Bilbo pulled harder. Bilbo was out there, somewhere, and they had to get to him before whoever was trying to harm him did.  
_Unless that has already happened,_ a snarky, cruel voice whispered in his ear. He fisted his hands, pushing the voice away.  
No. Bilbo was fine.  
He had to be.

"I'm going there, Dis. I have to." he replied, avoiding her gaze. "I can withstand the gold for a while now. It isn't as strong as it was before."

"Do you not remember the last time you came in here?" Dis hissed.  
Of course Thorin did. Because of that, an angry, murderous dragon destroyed an entire town. Which set off an entire chain reaction.  
And not to mention that Dis nearly lost her brother and her sons.  
And that he had nearly killed Bilbo admist it all.

"Do you trust me?" he turned to look directly at his siter's eyes. She looked tired, her eyes hard-- and scared. Scared of what might come next, scared of loosing him to the gold.  
A silence.

"Of course I do."

"Then trust me when I tell you that the least of my worries right now is the gold. It cannot reach me."

Dis' mouth made a firm, straight line. "You better keep your promise, then."

oOo

They searched for hours. Guards went through the great treasure, climbing over the piles of gold as if they were mountains. Some of them, I must admit, wondered what the missing hobbit meant to the powerful King Under the Mountain.  
Thorin himself had led the search. With the help of Dwalin, he had organized two different groups of dwarrows to search the entire treasury. Even Gandalf had shown up at some point, standing to the side with Dis as they watched the search continue.  
Yet hours had passed and there hadn't been a sign of the hobbit.

Thorin was too stubborn and proud to admit it, but the search was greatly tiring him. It was as if every treasure in the room were calling to him. He could block it out, but it was slowly getting louder to the point where he had to sit it out for a few minutes at a time.  
His worry and fear for Bilbo only grew bigger as the hours progressed without news. The treasury was massive. How would they find the hobbit? What if the gold had claimed him?  
Thorin blinked at that last worry. He shook his head lightly, sweeping a braid aside and slowing down to a stop. His boots sank a little under the coins he stood on, but he paid no heed as he looked out at the seas of gold that stretched out before them.

oOo

Bilbo dreamed he was back at the Shire.  
It was a melancholy dream; his parents were there, looking so alive that Bilbo doubted they had ever existed in the first place. He had discovered that he had shrunk to be the little hobbit boy he had been years and years ago.  
The dream had been pleasant. They had eaten and sang. His mother had taken him out into the garden and his father had been tending to the flowers he loved almost as much as he loved his wife and son.  
And then? Then there had been fire.  
It only took a blink for the trees to get engulfed in flames, the screaming to fill his ears and then silence save for the crackling of flames.

Bilbo's legs had been shaking as much as his hands, muscles tense and poised to run as a great shadow loomed above him, hidden by the smoke rising from the flames all around him. He had waited, fear making his heart beat rapidly against his ribcage as he awaited what he knew what would come next.  
The shape grew more distinct. Bilbo looked higher up to see glowing orange eyes before an enormous, scaled head lowered from the smoke. Bilbo moved back just in time, the dragon's jaws snapping in place where his frail, little body had just been moments ago.

"Pathetic," the dragon said in a low, menacing voice that made Bilbo's insides tremble. " _Pathetic._ "

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate feedback and suggestions to help develop the plot and the characters! I encourage you guys to throw it at my face down there, in that magical place labeled as "comments"--


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